By Diana Spechler
March 23, 2015
“Time after Time” played on the radio, static through icy Colorado. I wished I loved the man I was driving toward the way Cyndi Lauper loved someone once.
Steer into the skid, my dad had taught me. (No one tells you your steering won’t matter.) It was like falling in love, that loss of control. I felt alive when I landed, when I screamed, before I understood that those cows were upside down because I was.
I saw that my window had shattered. And that I could climb out.
Diana Spechler is the author of the novels Who by Fire and Skinny. My writing has appeared in Esquire, GQ, The Wall Street Journal, Brevity, The New York Times, The Paris Review, The Southern Review, Glimmer Train Stories, and elsewhere.
Photo “Broken glass” provided by Desiree Turner, under the Flickr creative commons license.
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