Gonjasufi - A Sufi and a Killer - Holidays
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there was an eyelash in her meat-lovers omelet. which made her think about that corny shit that people do, that she likes to do too, when they make someone else blow the fallen eyelash off a fingertip and make a wish. hairs in her food didn’t gross her out completely, not enough to pass on eating anyway. but a bite that offered a hair tangled in her chews could stop her from proceeding, regardless of the size of the hair or her appetite. to find an eyelash in here omelette that morning didn’t gross her out. she knew it wasn’t hers. it wasn’t her wish. someone else’s wish made it onto her plate. the room was full of people who probably regularly made wishes. wishes too heavy to carry. too heavy to get them up out of their beds, chairs, and homes. too heavy to do anything about other than wish. they have found a certain kind of comfort in wishing. It made it easier to justify not having the things they wanted. She took the eyelash off of the egg and placed it on the nearest salt shaker. she knew it wasn’t hers and she wasn’t wishing for anything this week, she had what she wanted, and was working hard towards getting what she didn’t have yet.