"Men are not punished for their sins, but by them."

I went home to Westchester last night planning on having a relaxing evening with my parents. Fifteen minutes into the traffic laden journey, the car in front of me stops short. I swerved to the right to try and avoid it, but the entire left side of my car smashed right into him.

With a sore neck and anger flushed cheeks, I swing open my door to tell him exactly where he can shove his Toyota. Unfortunately for me, my door has been bent shut, and I have to force it open. I gracefully edge my way out of the car, half falling as I pull my foot free. I come face to face with two pre-pubescent pimply faced children who probably didn't even have drivers licenses. They stammered hello, shuffling their feet as they looked at the front of my car. I take a deep breath, and ask them to drive off the exit and meet me on the side of the road. Luckily, my car is still functional.

My headlight is shattered, bumper has chunks torn out of it, the hood is bent up.



Long story short, I got back to Westchester in one piece. There's nothing wrong with the other car, and mine will probably take about $3000 to fix.