Story 7:
I was starving. I opened the office fridge and spotted a sandwich that looked incredible—thick slices of turkey, creamy avocado, crispy bacon. Way better than the sad peanut butter and jelly waiting at my desk.
I glanced around. No witnesses. Without hesitation, I grabbed the sandwich, devoured every bite, and ditched the wrapper like it had never existed.
The next day, I brought my usual PB&J. Took a big bite… and immediately regretted it. My mouth was on fire. My throat burned. I sprinted to the sink, gulping down water like my life depended on it.
That’s when I noticed a bright yellow sticky note on the fridge:
“To the person who stole my lunch, I added a little something special to yours today. Enjoy. :)”
Story 8:

Story 9:

As I stood behind the counter at the pizza shop where I worked, a woman burst in, slammed a pizza box down, and glared at me.
“This isn’t what I ordered! What are you going to do about it?” she snapped.
I glanced at the pizza, then at my coworker Nick, then back at her. “Nothing,” I said simply.
That set her off. She launched into a full-blown rant about how we were incompetent, how we’d definitely lose our jobs, and how completely unacceptable this was. Finally, she demanded to know why we weren’t doing anything to fix it.
I shrugged. “Because that pizza came from the shop across the street.”
For a moment, she just stood there, frozen. Then, as realization dawned, she seemed to physically shrink. She looked so utterly humiliated that I almost felt bad—almost. But the sight was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help it. I laughed so hard, tears streamed down my face.
Story 10:

Story 11:
This actually happened to me. I was 16, a junior in high school.
One day in English class, I got into a pretty intense argument with a classmate. Frustrated, I snapped, “I hope you get into a car accident.”
That evening, while driving my aunt around, I crashed—into a parked car. If that’s not karma, I don’t know what is.
Story 12:
I was cruising in the passing lane, gradually approaching a few cars in the right lane. Up ahead, the speed limit was about to drop, and suddenly, another car sped up behind me, clearly in a hurry. Instead of punching the gas to overtake the traffic on my right, I eased off and merged behind them—bringing the impatient driver right along with me.
The second I moved over, the car behind me floored it, blasting past while laying on the horn. Their passenger was halfway out the window, screaming something at me as they zoomed by.
Turns out, the car I had just slipped in behind? An unmarked state trooper. And just like that, flashing lights came on, and the reckless driver got pulled over.
Karma, served cold.