There are systems in place ensuring that when we blink out, as is 
inevitable, the world will not end.

     That was the only thought that ran through my mind.  I was driving 
along 63, coming from Spencer.  I'd been visiting Momma and the old doctor 
who'd cared for her when she was pregnant with me.  It was just a first-
trimester check-up, more for my benefit than the baby's.  Things looked 
fine, so I wasn't in a black mood or anything.

     What happened was I was on a stretch of level, straight road, a two-
lane without a solid yellow line for two or three miles.  A dirt driveway 
here and there.  I saw a black thing ahead a ways, quivering in the heat.  
I figured it was just a retread, but it held my attention without dis-
traction.  There weren't any other cars.  I slowed as I got closer.  The 
distortion of the curling asphalt heat dissipated.  I could tell it was an 
animal.  It stretched its wings, and then I could see the thin head and 
neck, jerking at something on the road.  I slowed to about thirty - it 
seemed indifferent.

     It ate three or four more jerks' worth, trifled to the shoulder, and 
waited.  I passed.  In my rear-view mirror, I watched it resume its meal, 
unhurried.  I sped back up to the limit, set the cruise control, driving 
the last thing on my mind.