It’s faded white, and broken.
The night’s blizzard fills in the cracks, and covers all.
And so, slowing, we search the snow.
The brighter the lights, the less we see.
On the unwelcome curves, just our best guess.
And now, it shows itself with intermittent hints.
We relax, loosen our grip a bit.
Toe the line, straight ahead.
Now, the road ahead shines with mottled ice.
We drift
Adrenalin pumps
Keep control now, no sudden moves.
Compute in instant calculus,
Millimeter motion on the wheel.
The billowed heart slows and shrinks.
We breathe.
Home.
The line in winter

Felt every second of that. My first black ice experience was on a Chicago freeway. Thank the whatevers that I wasn’t driving!
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Mine was a rollover, and I was driving.
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