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Day 780

Long ago in Iceland

Driving a gravel road

We almost died that day. Wordlessly we skidded from side to side on the narrow road, a long drop on either side. Our car was small and a large one was bowling towards us, dust billowing up behind it. Beloved kept cool as he realised he had over compensated and was swerving to the left, into the oncoming truck, with a risk of rolling down the bank and into the freezing lake beyond. Gently he turned the wheels to the right and the little car straightened up. Both of us had our eyes fixed on the road, tense, quiet and steady. The other driver passed by without harm, we breathed again. We knew we’d been lucky. Tremulous and smiling we drove on, grateful to be alive.

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