When I took a job 63 miles away from my house, even my new boss was skeptical about my ability to do the commute. And he had a good reason—the traffic in my city is infamous. But by the time I’d been at my job for a year, I’d gotten into such a rhythm that I would practically leave work and wake up at home, barely able to remember anything that happened in between.
At first, this change scared me, but after I kept getting home safely, I figured it couldn’t be the worst thing in the world. At least I didn’t have to sit through the mental strain of rush hour.
One thing that never changed, though, was my GPS. Even though I clearly knew the routes well enough to nearly drive them in my sleep the GPS was my MVP when it came to rerouting, watching out for cops, and getting a heads-up on delays. I didn’t even pay attention to it most of the time, but I still liked having it by my side.
So yesterday morning, I woke up, got everything ready for my first in-office day of the week, and hopped in the car. I was presenting to the CEO at 10, and I was ready to make it clear that I was ready for more responsibility. The entire way into the office, I fantasized about my own office, the electric car I was going to buy, and the restaurant I’d visit to celebrate my new position. I could see it all playing out so clearly that when the automated voice interrupted my fantasy, I jumped so hard I almost swallowed my gum.
“Hazard ahead—wreck in 2 miles.”
I looked at the screen on my dashboard, puzzled. The route line was blue; there wasn’t a hint of any backed-up traffic and the flow of cars around me was steady, even a bit fast. Clearly, the accident hadn’t been serious enough to interrupt anyone’s day, except for the unlucky bastards caught up in it. But better them than me, because today belonged to me.
I kept expecting to hit a patch of slowed traffic, but it never came. After about a mile and a half, I glanced back down at the GPS interface on my car’s screen.
“Hazard ahead—wreck in 500 feet.”
I glanced back up, scowling. The road was completely clear, except that I’d drifted into the next lane and was now straddling the dashed white line. I gasped and snatched the wheel back to the left, which sent my car barreling into the far-left lane and directly into the passenger side of a small, blue sedan.
The woman in the passenger seat floated toward me as if she were riding an invisible current, but the closer she got, the less she looked like a woman. We locked eyes and hers lit up with little girl helplessness until we were momentarily sitting side by side like a father and daughter in church. Then a jagged ripping sound tore us apart and flung her into the cement median. I saw her reach for something, maybe God himself, before the car turned into a quivering mass of metal. Everything below her neck jerked to the side so quickly that her eyes couldn’t follow, so they stayed locked onto mine as I nearly kicked the accelerator through the floor.
I didn’t go to work. Instead, I called in sick and spent the day and night in this inner-city motel. I didn’t want to miss my meeting with the CEO, but I knew the cops would find me if I went to work. Plus, we had an intern starting today, and she looked just like her. I really would have been sick if I’d done our intro meeting.
I don’t have the luxury to skip today though. The CEO just messaged me saying he has an urgent request, and we need to meet in person. Thankfully, I’m only fifteen minutes from the office, so I should be fine to come in.
The problem is that my GPS is acting up again. I entered the office address a few minutes ago and got a route that ends in the middle of the interstate along with a notification that reads, “Hazard Ahead—fatal wreck in 5 miles.”