You’ll recall that I scratched my car pretty badly about five minutes after buying it. Last night, I scratched it yet AGAIN on some rose bushes outside my house. This morning I was fretting about how I should probably get it fixed, and how it would probably be about nine hundred dollars, on top of feeling like a loser for being so negligent. I was walking back to my car after grabbing coffee and found a little old man scrubbing at the front scratch. I FIX IT FOR SIXTY DOLLARS, he says. YOU WATCH, YOU SEE. I FIX. Ten minutes later, it was like it was never there.

Guardian.

Car.

Angel.