Leaving From Home

The road has never been our home, even if traveling is what my wife Leah and I do best. The truth is, driving vehicles is the grittiest detail of our often gritty life, and now, as we’re heading back from an extended trip, there’s a northern whiteout closing in on this two-lane highway, just an hour from home. We reduce our speed, turn on the hazard lights, check if there’s a shoulder pull-off, and struggle to see through a blizzard that suddenly is flashing red. An instant later, white turns to gray and the road is revealed as a barrier of sideways transport trucks. There’s just time for fast words. “We’re going to hit, I’m going to try and steer between those trucks. Brace for impact.” Then, silence.

When the car comes to a stop, I spit a vapor of hot breath mixed with my window’s broken glass and shout, “I’m alive,” unsure what the words mean. I look