I died at the wheel of my car. My faithful Vanessa failed me. For a moment I thought I might make it. The spray from the passing truck momentarily cleared and I saw a chance of avoiding the big wheels. Then the truck sideswiped Vanessa, smashing her side and scattering my belongings all along the highway.
The great truck stopped. The other smaller vehicles in the flow of traffic skidded to the side of the road. Cars halted on both sides of the highway. Angry red lights lit the misty morning. The screech of brakes created a deadly chorus but there were no more pile-ups. I could feel no pain. I was alone dying at Vanessa's wheel.
How well Vanessa had served me. She was my first car. The smiling used car salesman in his shirt and tie said there were only 50,000 Ks on the clock. There was at least another 50 ks in the motor before she needed a re-coke.
