A simple snow storm has become a blizzard. I want to return to the diner, but I’m approaching the mountain summit. Visibility is near zero. Turning around is no longer an option. As the road sweeps around a sharp curve a stiff wind catches the snow and sends it in a horizontal direction. My eyes are dazzled. My sense of direction is gone. Then I feel the ridge of sand from the last snow plow. I over-correct, sending my Chevrolet skidding off the shoulder and down a steep embankment. An eternity passed before it comes to rest upside down. I’m suspended by my seat belt and I can’t move my arms. Panic consumes me. Eventually, however, I come to grips with my situation and consider my chances of surviving the frigid mountain temperature until help arrives. But darkness is absolute as well as the silence. Time is all I have.
Eventually, the horizon shows signs of a fragile, new day. Ever so slowly the gray smear falls away, allowing the sun to peek over a distant mountain.
“HELLO?” comes a voice from the roadway above. “IS ANYONE DOWN THERE?”