Minutes later, headlights cut through the rain. An eighteen-wheeler pulled into viewm assive, deliberat and crushed all three of the bikers’ motorcycles without pause. The old man’s truck. He didn’t even look back. Just rolled away into the night.The bikers stood there stunned, their laughter gone.

Back inside, silence returned. A grizzled trucker lifted his coffee and muttered, “Here’s to the ones who don’t waste their breath.”Some lessons don’t need words. Some nights, karma drives a rig.