He tells me he's lucky; the piece of metal that flew off the truck hit the vehicle in front of him first, shredding the tyre and sending it flying into the bridge wall.
He says it's a good thing that he was paying attention; if he had not swerved, the metal might have come through the windshield instead of glancing off the side of the car.
He wonders what would have happened if he had been riding his motorcycle instead of driving the car.
I explain that we have to stop talking about it or I will never sleep again. And then I don't sleep.