The Autobiography of a Maori
I once had a silly habit of writing down the number "36" and ultimately began to believe that I page 136would die at the age of thirty-six. For the whole of my thirty-sixth year I felt much apprehension and quietly awaited my death. However, I survived and entered my 37th year with a glad heart and gratitude. I did not divulge my secret fear to anyone, not even to my better half. I have not even told her yet, even though I have rid myself of the silly habit. I don't know why I took to writing down the number; perhaps it was its spirals and the neat look of the number that attracted me.