A Roll of the Dice

Every morning, Skunk rolled three dice.

It started out as just harmless hobby, a silly superstition, but it flourished into a fixation, the most important part of his morning ritual. He’d pick up the three dice from his bowl of loose change and other good luck charms and them once, and only once, no take-backs. Then he’d plan his day around what numbers showed on the die’s faces.

There was one particular combination he hoped to see every morning. Four two five. The first time he rolled those numbers was the morning he first met her. Bumped into her really, knocking her coffee out of her hand at the bus stop. She could have been angry, could have yelled at him for not watching where he was going, for ruining her jacket, and she would have been right. But all she did was smile at him and Skunk couldn’t hardly get the words to move past his lips, but he apologized and offered to get her another one.

On cue, before she could answer, the bus pulled up and she got on, saying some other time maybe, she really needed to get to work, that she was already running late and Skunk nodded dumbly and watched her go.

As the bus pulled away, he heard a knock from the window and looked up to see her wave and smile at him. He waved back. Sometime in the twenty minutes before the next one showed up, he realized she was likely trying to let him know he was missing his bus.

Four two five came up again a few weeks later. He saw her having lunch on a restaurant’s terrace just down the street from his office as he walked out of the bank. Skunk thought it was quite the coincidence, but then his memory snapped to the dice and he realized both times he’d seen her, the numbers had been the same. He groped hopefully at the idea that it was a sign, but he also knew how crazy that sounded.

Unless he had proof.

This could just be luck or the random chaos of the world sloshing up over the cup’s rim. If it could happen once more, he’d know it wasn’t a fluke. That it was something real. That it was serendipity, or even fate.

So every morning, Skunk rolled his three dice, hoping for four two five.


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