Posted by: sulya | 2 February 2010

The Fortunes

Just sitting on the stairs.  Flight three of six.  Five of them.  Some had their “lottery number” sides up, some their fortune sides.  The first image in my mind was of the cookies they’d abandoned.  Twisted up clam shells of not-too-sweet and crunchy.

Sometimes, I will pick up something on the stairwell if it looks harmless enough:  fliers in need of a date with the blue recycling bin, chunks of cardboard used to prop open a door during a move.  Depends, though, on my proximity to a said bin or how much I am already holding.

Today my hands are empty.  Today I could pick up these little, tiny pieces of paper and the futures they herald with little to no struggle whatsoever.  I even bend to do it.

But, I can’t.

They are not mine.  They are not from cookies I have ordered or eaten.  I am, to my vague if pervasive surprise, too superstitious to pick up someone else’s fallen wealth of fortunes.



  1. Oooooo. I am superstitious too. I know damn well it doesn’t make sense but damn it if you ever see me walking under a ladder.

    Your cattle photo is too cute, you know that?
    I have never seen toy cows with horns before. Are these plastic or ceramic?

  2. I am remarkably superstitious actually… I mean even that thing I do to play with “synchronicity” by asking a question and opening a book is a kind of superstition…

    Those cows are plastic and have been around a while in the family toy coffers I think… I’d have to ask a parental unit though because I’m not sure…

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