Silence and then a pop, like a gunshot you’d hear three blocks over.  To our left, a ditch. In my head, I saw the roll over. To the right, a guardrail. Safety, I thought.

“What do I do?” I asked.

“Keep steering,” he said.

Instead, I braked because the car was moving, and I wanted it to stop and instinct is a fuck of a hard thing to overcome. READ MORE memoir at The Nervous Breakdown