My one flaming vehicle was something I saw while speeding like the dickens somewhere on the network of highways around New York City. It was dusk, and that tricky part of dusk when your eyes just feel dim but you're not smart enough to turn your lights on yet, and I whipped past a flaming elderly shmoozemobile pulled over by the side of an exit.

I know I was speeding because (a) I saw it and it was gone, that fast; and (b) sitting right next to it was a police car and I was so going to be busted. Except that there was a car on fire and that was more important.

...But I had to look for it in my rearview to make sure my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. Except for the whole property-destruction-and-mayhem, kind of a lovely weird liminal experience.