Tuesdays and Magic

She wonders. If I did. Forget the dishes, dishes, dishes. There are sharp knives, that get sharper. Dirty water. It’s always Tuesday when I get cuts on my fingers. We never have bandages, I don’t know why. The knives and I fight like this. I make everyone mad. Tuesdays are when I go to work. Tuesdays are when. Events are connected like that. I promise. I get a cut on my hand. But that makes me invincible for the day. People are nicer, they don’t stare as much. I avoid a cascade that way. I write on paper, not the wall. They hate the wall. I prevented a car accident that way. The fan blows the pages around. If the pages were money, the earth would explode. Instead, I’m happy for once. I knew it. What? It’s Tuesday, so I knew it.