Superstitions are interesting, aren’t they?  Knock on wood, cross your fingers.  Little rituals, attempts to make a pattern out of chaos.  
Jewish tradition says that touching salt is unlucky.  The littlest finger brings poverty.  Thumbs bring the death of one’s children.
I must have been clumsy with my thumbs, huh?  Well, you ought to know; you were the instrument.
The index finger, now, placed into salt—like so—makes one into a murderer.  
It’s meaningless, of course.  A ritual.  Something to help me make sense of things, to help me prepare for what comes next.
Are you ready?
Too bad.
DP FICTION #129A: “When Eve Chose Us” by Tia Tashiro
16 hours ago


3 comments:
writing villain monologues is the best! hahahahaha...
I'm not even sure he's the villain...
okay, monologues.
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