I remembered that pilot car and wondered if they had taken a right at the intersection of 158.
And if my pilot had anything at all to do with all those blue and red lights.
I pulled back into the gas station to call off my mission and make a phone call. The sky was brightening and burning the last layer of fog for my journey back. There was much more traffic on the road now and less patches of ice to be seen. I could see very well as I approached the little Wiccacon River bridge. And I slowed down to see the the path that truck had taken when it almost did not make it across. Very little evidence to remark what could have been a near fatal accident. I made it back over in the same manner as before, gracefully and gratefully. My mind began to recount what could have happened on the bridge had I stayed behind that truck and never passed it. If I had been following instead of leading. The pilot car? it gave me the confidence to pull ahead but the pilot must not have listened to the birds. And I wondered again about the blue and red lights....my mind washing over with images and what ifs my whole drive home.
I turned the key and climbed the stairs and immediately went to the bathroom. As I sat there I kept thinking about all that had happened and hadn't happened this morning. I saw something white on the little black lace waistband of my undies. I plucked it from the fold and held it up. 
The most beautiful little white feather you have ever seen.