The Dented Fender, the Rainy Wait, and a Unexpected Turn of Fortune
It was a Tuesday, and the universe seemed to have a personal grudge against me. I was already running late for work when I backed my trusty, ten-year-old hatchback out of the driveway. I didn't see the recycling bin my neighbor had left right on the curb, hidden by the morning mist. A sickening crunch of plastic, followed by the metallic scrape of my rear fender meeting the bin's metal...
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