Look, you have to go out and look for luck. Yes, walking down the alley behind a man, the one with a brown rabbit on his head, I mean, the one who wears a winter hat, even though we don't even have seasons here. The sun is twinkling at the zenith right now. Listen to what he has to tell you. Go ahead, sit down to eat fried fish and rice while listening in the distance to the news on the TV in the restaurant. Ask for directions to the little theater downtown, where crystal chandeliers and a velvet curtain hang. Let your fingers wrinkle in the water, let your hair stick wetly to your back, open your eyes, and swim flush against the pool tiles. Scream as the sugar melts in your mouth, dance with your dog, and hold a ripe mango between your hands. Ask for the keys to the lab, put a ripe watermelon under the lens of the microscope, be silent and follow with one eye the repeating circles, the thin lines of water and the craters in light red tones.
