We Are Runnning Out Of Talisman Glue

By breakfast I’ve decided. ‘If the talisman keeps falling, I will innovate.’

‘Mother, do you have any glue blessed by the high priest?’ I ask. 

She gives me the look. So I settle for rice paste.

He’s lounging inside the barrier, pretending to meditate. I kneel outside with a bowl of rice paste and a brush.

‘This will hold, finally.’

He opens one eye. ‘That’s what you said yesterday about the blue tack. And the day before that with the masking tape.’

‘Well today, I’m using triple coating.’

I carefully paint the seal with paste and stick it right on. It slides down immediately, leaving a sticky streak on his cheek.

‘Perfect. Now I’m moisturized and blessed.’ He snickers.

I wish my stare can kill him, but it doesn’t. 

‘Awww pouty Melodette! You’re adorable when you try hard.’

The paste-covered talisman eventually drifts to the floor, defeated. And so am I.

I lie down dramatically on the tatami mat. ‘Just let the curse take me.’

He laughs so hard the temple protective barrier ripples.

Even Grandma, who’s been pretending to nap in her chair, snorts quietly.