The train was moving at a snail’s pace and it was a looooong train. Car after car after car just crawled past, not twenty feet on the other side of my windshield. Clack, pause, clack, pause, clack, pause, clack.
Well, this is why I always keep a book in my car.
So I pulled out the save me from death by boredom book and began to read.
I was totally lost in a totally forgettable story, when the lowered crossing rail between my car and the passing train evaporated without my notice.
I also failed to realize that my car had started creeping forward.
I only pulled myself out of the book as the snubby nose of my car slipped under the belly of a high-floored boxcar. The iron wheel plowed into the side of my car and, unable to surmount it and unwilling to derail, simply began pushing my car along sideways down the tracks in a shower of sparks and a cacophony of screaming metal.
And here most people would think -
Oh no, I’m going to die.
Me? I was thinking, just before I awoke -
Damn, I just totalled my new Prius.
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