Mr. Nando considered himself a legend on four wheels - a man whose driving skills were only rivaled by his heroic capacity for anger. His daily commute was a gauntlet of frustration, starting from the moment he turned the key in the ignition. The sound of the engine roaring was his battle cry, and the road, his eternal foe. Nando was not merely annoyed with other drivers; he was convinced that each one had been personally assigned to torment him by the universe.

It began at the traffic light right outside his apartment complex. It was a sunny Wednesday morning, and Mr. Nando was in a mood. Today, he thought, today I will conquer the road. Just as he was about to make his triumphant left turn, a scooter zoomed out of nowhere, zipping past him and cutting him off. Mr. Nando slammed the brakes and laid on the horn, his hand permanently fused to it like an opera singer clinging to a final high note.

"Get a car!" he bellowed, even though his windows were firmly shut.

A few blocks later, he encountered a mother pushing a baby stroller across the street. Now, Mr. Nando wasn't heartless - he was capable of respect, even admiration, for pedestrians. But this mother seemed to walk at a speed that was, in his eyes, more appropriate for tortoises. He squinted at her as if to say, "Lady, I've got places to be!"

Then came the thrill of the roundabout, his personal Mount Everest. Mr. Nando had a unique approach to roundabouts: rather than merge smoothly, he liked to see them as a game of vehicular "chicken." But today, fate decided to play him a different card.

A red sports car, with a driver who looked like he'd just stepped out of a yacht club catalog, entered theroundabout from the opposite side. The two locked eyes, each determined to assert dominance. But as they circled, the sports car casually zipped out of the roundabout and away, while Mr. Nando was left circling like an angry shark looking for prey.

"Ah, real nice! Must be nice to be rich and be able to dodge your responsibilities!" he muttered as he finally managed to exit.

But Nando's true nemesis was waiting just around the next corner: the most dreaded adversary of all.. a parking lot. And not just any parking lot. This one was cramped, with narrow aisles and tight spots. Nando had a love-hate relationship with parking, mostly hate. It wasn't that he couldn't park - he'd simply developed a conviction that anyone taking more than five seconds to park was clearly a villain.

As he approached an open spot, he noticed a little hatchback sneaking its way toward it from the opposite direction. He floored it, cutting off the hatchback with inches to spare, and slid into the spot. Triumphant, he turned to give the other driver his best "that's right" look. But the other driver merely gave him a thumbs-up and a grin, oblivious to the monumental battle that had just been fought in Mr. Nando's mind.

But just when he thought he'd conquered his final obstacle, fate threw him a curveball in the form of a pedestrian who decided to jaywalk right in front of his car. The pedestrian, a lanky teenager with oversized headphones, didn't seem to notice Mr. Nando, nor the fact that he had nearly caused a blood vessel to burst in his forehead.

"Oh, you're crossing now?" Nando yelled through the window. "Sure, sure! It's not like I have somewhere to be!"

After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached hisoffice parking lot. As he pulled in, he took a deep breath and released it. Today's battle was over. But he couldn't help but feel that something was missing. The thrill of the chase had left him exhilarated, yet strangely empty. Was it possible, he wondered, that his endless rage had become... unnecessary?

Just as he pondered this, he noticed a scruffy little dog on the curb near the parking lot. The dog was wagging its tail enthusiastically, as if it had just discovered the secret to happiness. The moment their eyes met, Mr. Nando felt something he hadn't experienced in a long time: peace.

With a sigh, he parked the car, got out, and walked over to the dog. It trotted right up to him and started wagging its tail even harder. "Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine?" Nando muttered as he knelt down to pet the dog. The dog, in turn, started licking his face as if to say, Forget the road rage, buddy. Life's too short for all that.

For a moment, Mr. Nando forgot about his day's frustrations, his honking, his fist-shaking. He just sat there, petting the dog and feeling a warm, fuzzy sensation in his chest. Maybe, he thought, he didn't have to be so angry with every bump and swerve on the road. Maybe - just maybe - there was something more to life than outmaneuvering every car, truck, and scooter.

And for the first time in a long while, Mr. Nando smiled, realizing that all it took was a little dog to remind him of the simpler joys in life. Road rage? Well, maybe he could let that go. After all, he had a dog to love, and that was a kind of victory he could truly celebrate.