Where do I start?
We went to a wedding today. Well, part of a wedding.
We didn’t exactly make it in time. But at least we had a good excuse.
Our car burned. Burned to the ground. We watched it, from afar, on the side of a long, twisty road up in the mountains. That was where our car just stopped working. So my dad pulled over. Then we saw the smoke. So my dad got out of the car. Then…
“Oh my gosh. It’s on fire.”
We all ran out. I grabbed Esther like she was a rag doll and threw her towards my mom who ran away from the car, holding her. I ran out. I left my purse inside the car. It burned, too.
So, what then? We watched the pretty orange flames take over the entire suburban. We watched smoke billow hundreds of feet into the sky. We heard police cars and finally saw a fire truck come to the rescue. But by the time they got there, our car was toast. Literally.
Nothing was left, except for the grey remains of the frame. When the flames reached the tires, we heard an explosion and saw flames shooting out horizontally from beneath the car.
It was scary. It was cool. It was trauma. But it makes for a really good story.
And yes, we’re all alive and well. Not a scratch or burn on any of us.
Hallelujah!
