Shit Luck

It’s going to be an awesome day. Either that, or I used up all my good luck early. I was out the door before seven-thirty, walking into a beautiful morning. I was looking at the cover of the newspaper I’d just bought on the way to my coffee shop ritual, when past the edge of the harrowing headline I watched my foot step directly into the middle of a wide pattern of scattered dog shit. My foot landed as my eyes watched, my brain powerless to stop my stride. And miraculously, dog shit everywhere, my foot stepped in that one safe, shoe-shaped platform of naked sidewalk in the center of the scattered, brown piles. Luck is with me… or is it all used up? If only a bird would shit on my head, as I’ve heard it said that this is truly wonderful luck, then I’d know for sure that the duffel bag I am bound to find later today will unzip to bundles of hundred dollar bills and not to some joker’s captured hornet’s nest.