Cruising down a small road on my bike I was excited to get a green, no hard start to get going again! When I looked left I panicked and swerved. Barely glancing off the back off of his shiny black Ford truck, he had run the red light. In the moment before the thud it felt like flying. Nothing except empty sound and the anticipation of the road against me. A crack and scraping across the hard ground later I gasp for breathe. Looking up he had come to see if I was okay, or so I thought. He looked me dead in the eyes and hissed almost under his breathe, " You scratched my truck". Brushing myself off I hold up my arm and tell him in a dead pan holding my tongue tone, " Well you scratched a whole lot more on me". A brief stare down and I start gimping away. In the distance I hear him yell something angrily. After I cross the bridge I build up the courage (more like strength) to get back on. Putting my seat back on straight I hurry off up and over the hill. As you know, I still had a full night of work.