The Interstate

I was driving home from a job site outside Tulsa at midnight, exhausted, when I heard a voice — not in my head, through my ears, clearly, like someone in the passenger seat — say "Pull over now." I pulled onto the shoulder. Thirty seconds later a semi crossed the center line and plowed through the exact stretch of road I had been on. The trooper who took my statement said I would not have survived. I have driven that interstate a hundred times since and I still cannot pass that mile marker without saying thank you.