It’s been weeks since the crash outside my stoop, but I’m still living in its aftermath.

The scars still run down the driver’s side, where an intoxicated man slammed into my car .

My door still doesn’t open without an annoyingly loud clack. Paint’s chipped off in uneven lines. My sleek black Toyota Camry used to turn heads. Now it’s an eyesore — hard to believe I bought it just two years ago.

This wasn’t the plan. The car was supposed to last me a decade, maybe more. It’s the reason I chose a used Camry: reliable, efficient, forgettable in the best way.

Instead, it’s become a recurring character in a story I never meant to keep writing, and one of the most stubborn financial weights I carry.

The car’s paid off, technically. But that hasn’t stopped the bills. Repairs, maintenance, ri

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