I whipped the wheel, wrenched it another way,
slamming my shoulder into it, the dash, as my old hulk screamed and
lurched off the road to bounce and come up sharply against the tree.
I could smell the stink of burned oil and gasoline
as the pickup careened obliviously on.
Silence remained with me.
My head hummed, my hands quivered on the wheel.
Furiously I kicked at the door, shoving it out but then
I held myself in check, unwilling to harm the tree. Perhaps I had harmed it.
Or, that fool in the truck had.
I peered in the rear view mirror. I could see nothing.
Anger flushed hotly through my head.