But miles and miles and miles away, before I’d known it, something was about to break my heart. It would crumple to the harmony of screeching rubber on gravel. It would be crushed beneath a ton and a half of metal and fiberglass. The air around it would fill with the smell of gasoline, fresh country grass, and copper. And when it broke, it would break completely. It would be crushed into grains so fine, they would become sand. Flames would lick at the broken pieces, turning what was left to glass.
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