Driving along the road, I come to a bridge. For some reason, I veer off the bridge and plunge my car into the muddy, brown, flood waters of the Little Miami river below. Once my car hits the water, I think to myself that I need to crack the windows to slow the amount of water flowing in before I make my way out. I am the epitome of calm. I look in the passenger seat, and think to myself that I need to grab my bag, even though I know I should not, but I want to. I glance in the backseat and notice that the two car seats are empty. I am thankful for this.
Floating down the river, I notice that my driver side door is pointing up, and I think that now would be the optimal time to exit my sinking vehicle, especially since it could roll over at any point. I open the door, and take a leap of faith.
Once in the brown water, I am struggling. I am swimming as hard as I can, but I cannot reach the shore. This continues for what seems like an eternity. Swimming upstream, only to find myself,
Once on the shore, I have no idea where I am. Trekking through the brush of this unfamiliar floodplain, I am completely lost. Then, something looks remotely familiar…