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“Are we all going to wake up dead tomorrow?” asks my pal Dave as our taxi crawls up a steep, winding road on a fog-drenched mountain.

“Think positive, think of the next beer when we get there,” I reply, gnawing at my nails. And then another car emerges through the mist ahead, mere meters away, and hurtles past us. Again we thank God that it didn’t hit us head on and . . . kill us.

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