The Stare of Hate

I'm learning to drive.

I'm pretty good at steering. Okay at stopping. Kind of not good at shifting. And I suck at starting. This is normally humiliating but not really a problem.

But today I drove home from church, by the long way, which is an hour drive. I did well until the very last stoplight. And then I killed the car. By the time I got it started and moving again, the light had turned red and I was the last one through. I could almost see steam rising off of the cars trapped behind me, and I don't think it was the rain.

15 minutes later I'm going sixty on a seventy mph road (rain, remember?) And a mysteriously familiar white car appeared behind me. I looked at it in the mirror. Hmm...

And then I recognized it.

I could feel the stare of hate burning into my rear-view mirror, and no almost about it.