Glimpse.

October 7, Illiopolis.

My driver's side mirror literally flew off its handle on the road this morning and for a moment I was left driving blind. 
In the fragment of a second I glimpsed it, flying off, barely, then gone, it looked like white paper floating by my window, elegant, the fragment of an angel's wing floating by my conscience, gone before it could be seen. 
Fridman and Castro drove the car back to retrieve the broken piece so it wouldn't chance cause an accident and then tied a concave mirror in its place so I could drive on.  It will have to do for tomorrow's jump too as junkers are not open on Sundays.