Right Of Way (Short Story)
It all happened so fast, so fast those who heard the screech of tires did not see the actual impact, just two cars utterly smashed into each other. The first man, quite elderly, emerged from the ruins completely amazed, he looked himself over for a second and then his mind was suddenly switched back to the anger that had engulfed him just a few seconds earlier. There he is! He thought, furious. He strode pompously over to the other driver who had equally, quite miraculously, emerged unscathed and was looking himself over. They have both survived the crash. “How could you, you miscreant,” shouted the elderly man, “it was my right of way, how could you drive that cheap jalopy in my way?” “You call me a miscreant! You old fool; did you not see my headlamp flashing? I even horned; you must have been deaf too.” “That car is worth three million, and I will clean up everything you have earned in your entire miserable life to replace it, I am a barrister at law.” “Barrister,” the