The hitchhiker asked to be let out early, then leaned back through the window and said, quiet and certain.
“Don't take the county bridge tonight."
He almost didn't listen. He took the long way instead, some instinct he couldn't name, and heard on the radio the next morning that the bridge had collapsed at 11:40 p.m. the exact time he would have crossed it. He pulled over to text his wife that he was safe, but then he jotted awake and realized it was a dream.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Heed my words and live“
The hitchhiker said while sitting on the front passenger seat. Only then realized he'd realized he just saw what was going to happen.