What Falls From the Sky Does Not Strike Me

The author — Photo by her patient husband, Andrew

Our rented Buick rocked as the tractor trailers and rock haulers zipped past on the highway. I gripped the door handle, certain a homicidal maniac steered each truck rushing by, intent on racking up another victim on their way to the West Texas oil fields.

We had selected the Buick from a fleet of options. We assumed the larger car would be safer and more comfortable than my ten-year-old…