I threw a stone at a car

The other morning I was running through the usual obstacle course that our roads now offer for free: potholes, puddles, loose gravel, and the occasional small private lakes that become part of the road in the wet season. 

I saw the car coming from a distance. The car was moving fast, bouncing through potholes without reducing speed, just hitting one after another as if that was normal. Then it reached the large one.

The splash was unbelievable.

Usually when a car splashes you, the water catches your legs, maybe below the knee. This time, the splash was so large it hit my whole side, reached my hair, landed on my face, and covered my glasses completely in mud. For a moment I could not even see properly. I was wearing bright colours, so unless someone was driving while thinking very deeply about life, I believe I could be seen.

I just stood there thinking, what exactly was that? Actually, I said it less politely than that.

What made it even stranger is that I already had a stone in my hand. A small smooth stone I had picked up while running, for no particular reason, and carried it absentmindedly for a while and then forget you are carrying.

Before I had properly processed what had happened, I threw it.

It hit the side mirror with a loud bang. It did not break anything, but it was loud enough for the car to stop.

The driver got out immediately, looking very annoyed, with the largest frown on his his face. He first checked the mirror. Then he turned to me and asked, why did you hit my car?

By then I was already walking toward him, wet, muddy, glasses stained, looking exactly like the answer to his question.

I just said, look at me. And to his credit, he did.

Something changed immediately. His face softened. He said he had not intended it. I am not sure whether he had seen me or not, because honestly I still think he had. 

He apologised and then offered to give me a ride to where I was going so I could change.

That was kind, but it was not something I was prepared to accept from a man whose car I had just hit with a stone. I declined and decided it was wiser to continue home exactly as I was.

I walked back, very muddy and slightly amused by the whole thing, but the strangest part is that the stone had not even been picked up for that purpose. It found its purpose in my hands.