A stall in time

“As I pulled up to a stoplight on my way to the grocery store, I glanced at the fuel gauge and moaned in frustration at the near-empty tank.

“‘Oh, Roger!’ I cried, fuming at my forgetful husband who’d last driven the car. ‘When will you learn to put gas in this thing after you drive it?’

“Holding my breath, I continued driving toward town, hoping and praying that I had enough fumes in the tank to make it to the nearest gas station. But as I rounded the corner of a country road, my vehicle sputtered and rolled to an unceremonious stop right before an intersection, the red needle resting squarely on empty.

“I slammed my hand against the wheel, intent on lecturing Roger once I got home, but in that split-second, a semi-truck came barreling through the stop sign to my left…right where my car…and I…would have been had I kept driving.

“Reeling with shock and breathing heavily, I trekked through the snow to the gas station just up the road, grabbed a gas can and went to pay for it and the fuel at the counter.

“When the man at the cash register saw what I was buying, he gave me a sympathetic look.

“‘Ran outta gas, huh?’ he said, shaking his head. ‘That’s just plain bad luck.

It’s cold out there today.’

“‘Actually,’ I responded, thinking of how my empty tank may have saved my life, ‘I’ve never felt luckier!’”