Editor’s Intro:
Writers love to torture their characters with high-speed crashes and AI driving failures.
It’s significantly less fun when the universe decides to plagiarize your draft in real life.
What Ed the Editor gives us is the real-time dispatch from the ditch.
— Mac Sitko
⚠️ Content Warning1
We’re in the car. I’m driving. Youngest, young-adult kid in the passenger seat. We listen to the latest songs they produced. One standalone, no lyrics yet. One instrumental for a game project. Yeah, another project, but it’s related to an existing story, so sure—let’s do it.
We hit the highway. Same road to the city, different day. A light rain, typical late winter day for us. What’s that, you’ve got another idea? Another new project? Okay, let’s hear it. We go back and forth. This one’s not a story concept yet, still only an idea for a new medium. They infodump, I listen, mental gears turning.
Highway driver assist is on. It’s no full auto-drive, but does most of the work. I’ve driven cross-country with this baby. I take the junction, for the hundredth time this year. We enter the new highway, time to get over and around all the people going half the speed limit. Who else is working on this new project? Not reliable? Yeah, it’s best to do collaborative projects with people already doing that kind of thing on their own.
Did the front wheel slip? WTF. That’s no good. Did the tire blow out? The car beeps. It glides across the road. This is hydroplaning, right? I’ve done this a million times without issue. Shit, is driver assist still on, accelerating. Tap the brake to disengage cruise control. That’s not working, ease into the brakes. Nope, still going—fast.
The car veers right. I do something with the steering wheel, trying to guide it, but it’s not helping. I was in the middle lane, wasn’t I? The car slides into the right lane. Glad no one was beside me. The car leaves the pavement, maybe now the wheels will get some traction.
On the grass now, maybe brakes will work. Still gliding. OMG fucking highway sign steel posts ahead—no, beside now, what’s next. Nothing is working. We spin, 360. Like the teacup ride at Disney. The world turns and there’s nothing to do but sit here and wait. The car is sort of moving forward again. Fuck, my abs are tight, bracing for impact—with what?
We’re on grass, a hill, trees in the distance. I hope this fucking thing stops before we hit trees. Fuck, hit a dip. It sends us up, spinning again, heads jostling side to side. Another spin, gliding, slowing, waiting. Stopping. Stopped.
Deep breathing. Adrenaline pumping. Are you okay? Yeah. Anything hurt? I don’t think so. Airbags didn’t deploy, must not have been that much of an impact—or they’re pieces of shit.
What now? What the fuck do I do? Get out, check the car. Is it on fire? No. Body damage? None visible. Mud caked up all over the car. One blown tire. Was that the cause? Did that happen before or after? How the fuck do we get off this hill? How the fuck didn’t we hit anything?
Now fucking what?
We’re going to an appointment, need to tell them we’re not going to make it, right? That’s the most important thing, right? That’s done. Now what?
Oh, roadside assistance. Robot. Press 2 if you’re safe. Robot. Press 2 for roadside assistance. Robot. Press 2 to speak to a representative. Robot tells me about my policy. How the fuck do I get a human. Recording continues. That’s fucking great, robot, can I get a human. Recording ends.
Finally, a human. Yes, we’re safe. Policy number? Oh, yeah. Name? Which car? Which color? Yes. We hydroplaned, my tire is flat, I’m stuck off the side of the road up a hill. Yes, send a truck. Okay, thanks.
Text wife. Calling would alarm her more. Need to emphasize we’re safe.
My tire blew out and we hydroplaned to a ditch. We’re both absolutely okay. No airbags. But the car is on a hill that I can’t drive off of in the mud without a tire. I called a truck. I messaged appointment.
She checks what we need. Should pick up the kid, they’re fine now but when the adrenaline drops they’ll be drained. Bring food. She’s on her way.
Is that the tow truck? No, a road worker checking we’re okay. We’re not injured, waiting on tow truck, thanks.
Four more people stop. A couple good ol’ boys that want to help tow it out. Nah, man, thanks, we got a tow truck on the way. It’s nice they stopped, but they’ll just get stuck too. Besides, insurance probably wouldn’t want it—a liability.
I check in with kid. You alright? Back hurts? Your whole body tensed on instinct, you’ll probably be sore a few days. We talk matter-a-fact about the incident, keeping it clinical, don’t want to panic about what could have been. We talk nonsense. Blame the whole incident on the non-cooperative project collaborator because it happened the exact moment we mentioned it.
Mom will be here soon. I spot her driving by on the opposite side of the highway. She sends a text (sent with Siri):
Yeah, you can’t park there, bro
You’re gonna need a car wash man
Yeah, haha, lots of mud. She has to do a big loop for a couple miles to get on this side of the highway. She pulls up. I help the kid, who’s wearing sandals, down the wet hill, across the ditch. I remind them this is why I always bring jackets and shoes when it’s raining or cold even if I’ll be in the car the whole time. Sure, Dad. Kid can eat and decompress now. They drive off. Still going to be hours for me.
Tow truck driver finally arrives an hour after. Says he can’t get me out—too far from road, needs some other kind of truck $250/hr for that one. But he’s going to make a few calls and see.
A firetruck drives up. Four men start putting on gear and walking up the hill. Uh, hi. I’m fine, no injuries. You got a call about a tan SUV that rolled over? Not us. At least doesn’t sound like us. Mine’s a different color, no rollover. Thanks, guys. Was it some other road incident or did some passerby misread the situation?
Tow driver doesn’t want to back down from a challenge. He gets the police to block off the road. The road worker shows back up with his “move left” sign on a truck and sets it up. We exchange a laugh at his return.
I watch from the sidelines. Taking in the scene now that I’m stuck waiting, no longer in action mode. We almost died today. Looking back at the tire tracks in the mud and how close they were to disaster, I’m surprised we didn’t.
Tow driver tries to drive the car first. Mud ain’t having it. He finds every cable, rope, and chain he has. Barely enough to reach. 300 feet. Pulls the car some. Oh shit, is it going to roll down the hill? No, he stops.
What could I have done differently? I should’ve turned off driver assist in the rain, right? But it seems safer, it sees before I can—except fucking water on the road, apparently.
The irony that this hydroplane incident likely happened because I had highway driver assist on with wet roads is not lost on me considering I wrote my character doing nearly the same thing with his stupid AI driving car.
They start moving the car again. It’s coming at a bad angle, will end up in the ditch. Moves truck. Change angle. Tow line too short now. Another tow driver shows up to help. More chains. They work together, one pulling, one steering. I’m hoping the steel cable doesn’t snap and cut through all of us watching.
Did the tire blow out first? Did the car accelerate in a puddle when it should have let off? Should I have replaced the tires sooner? Did I almost kill us?
I’m hoping the car doesn’t slide down the hill, roll, and trap the tow driver. I can’t do anything. Can’t even help carry the chains, I’m now the liability. The tow drivers drag it down the hill.
We almost died today. It’s all I can think. I don’t know how to process this information. There was no divine intervention—no miracle. Just fucking physics and luck.
Car is on the truck. Fucking finally. Now what? Dealer. They’ll look at it tomorrow. Hopefully it’s only the tire, but the wheels hit the dip sideways pretty hard. Uber to coffee to wait for a pickup.
We almost died today. Maybe writing about it will help. I’ll probably torture my character with it one day.
© 2026 NOPE Journal. All rights reserved. Don’t be a dick and steal our stuff.
High-speed, non-fatal car incident.




Real life is always the scariest thing 😩 glad it went as well as it could have, spinning out is surreal
This was scary as hell, Ed. I love this piece, but glad you guys were fine.