Breakdown

I need the number for the AA because it's happened again. Car at a standstill, this time in a dark deserted lane, miles from who knows where. I slam the steering wheel with clenched fists, a hiccupping sob escapes, tale-telling my frustration and fear. I grapple clumsily on the floor for my phone. Desperate, I lurch into the sluicing rain unsteadily slipping on the wet mud, I drop like a corpse to the ground. Tears and rain rivulet down my face as befuddled, I jab the buttons of my phone. "Samaritans? Help, I need the number for Alcoholics Anonymous!"