I guess I don't really have any superstitions now.
But I don't like when my feet step on a disproportionate number of sidewalk cracks.
And I feel bad when I throw away plants that aren't completely dead.
It's like I'm burying them alive or something.
Hopefully they're not too upset about it.
Plants seem to accept death pretty gracefully...
When I was young I think I probably had a few.
I remember trying to hold my breath whenever I passed by a graveyard.
My brother told me that the dead people resting there would come to haunt me if I didn't.
There was one graveyard downtown that was just massive.
Driving by it in the car was alright...
but I always had to take a breath when I rode past on my bike.
It became clear to me that the occasional haunting was a sacrifice I would have to accept for the enjoyment of a sunny day bike ride and ice cream with dad.
He always let me get waffle cones.
I really wondered about the people who strolled slowly around in the graveyard, though.
There must be a bigger bounty in that.... maybe they were getting more ice cream than me.
I never dared to test my hypothesis.
I'm 24 now and still sometimes catch myself holding my breath.
I wonder if other people do, too.