I was driving my car on a narrow, two-lane bridge that went over a large body of sea water. It was made of concrete and it had an unpainted concrete's grayish color which was almost white in the glare of the sun; it was a sunny day, bright but not hot. The bridge was so long it disappeared into the horizon which consisted solely of sea and sky.    

Sometimes on certain parts of certain years during high tide the water swallows the bridge making it impassable. The police will post warnings and close the bridge on these occasions.    

But apparently this time they didn't, or forgot to, because the water was rising visibly and I was already driving on half a foot of water. I saw another car coming from the other direction. There was a woman behind the wheel. She was driving really fast and the water behind her almost looked like it was trying to get her.    
                         
I should've turned back then, but I didn't. I  thought I could still make it to the other end if I drove fast enough. It was a mistake. When I next looked the bridge no longer disappeared into the horizon but into the pale blue sea. What was left of it in front of me for half a mile or so was very rapidly disappearing, a wall of water collapsing on it from either side.    

I realized that I was going to die.