Three.

Three. No, the date. Today, three.
I’m Sicilian, I’ve always had this “thing” with numbers. Numbers are signs. Signs, I’ve been taught, are God speaking to us.

We’re a unique blend of religion and superstitions.
We wear a cross with a cornicello.
We say novenas, but we worry regardless.
We pray, but we look for signs. We think we can beg and plead and perform to get our way.
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