Recently, I had an experience that really made me believe in karma.
I came out of a store one sunny afternoon and froze. There he was—my husband—laughing with a young, very pregnant woman. His mistress.
My heart shattered on the spot. I confronted him, words flying like daggers. We argued in the middle of the sidewalk until I couldn’t take it anymore. Tears blurred my vision as I turned and hailed a cab.
That’s when things got interesting.
The cab driver glanced at me through the mirror and asked, “That awful guy your husband?”
I sniffled, “Yeah… unfortunately.”
He gave me a sly grin. “Wanna hear a brilliant plan for revenge?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “I’m ready for anything to teach him and his chicken a lesson.”
The driver chuckled. “Perfect. Here’s what you do: when their baby is born, you should take a stick and—” He paused for dramatic effect. “—draw a line in the sand, because that’s the day karma will start doing its work for you.”
I frowned. “That’s it? No dramatic revenge?”
He smiled knowingly. “Trust me, lady. You don’t have to get your hands dirty. People who betray love… life gets them back in ways no one can plan.”
I didn’t believe him at first. But three months later, I found out my husband’s new girlfriend had left him—turns out the baby wasn’t even his.
That’s when I finally smiled.
The cab driver was right.
Karma drives faster than any taxi. 
