[Scene: A cozy Paris apartment. Emma is sweeping up shards of a broken mirror. Camille arrives with two coffees.]
Camille: [looking down at the floor] Mon dieu, Emma! What happened here — did you get into a knife fight with your reflection?
Emma: [groaning] I dropped the mirror, Camille. And now… seven years. Seven years of bad luck. My life is over.
Camille: Oh, come on! Seven years? That’s oddly specific. Why not six and a half? Or eight?
Emma: It’s tradition, Camille! Everyone knows breaking a mirror curses you. My grandmother swore it happened to her — after she broke one, her car broke down, her cat ran away, and she got fired all in the same year.
Camille: Okay, but correlation doesn’t mean causation. Maybe her car was old, her cat was adventurous, and her boss was a jerk.
Emma: You’re such a scientist. Always looking for logical explanations. But some things just are, Camille. I mean, mirrors have been seen as portals to the soul for centuries. When you break one, it’s like you’re shattering part of yourself.
Camille: [laughing] So if I break a full-length mirror, do I lose my legs too? Look, Emma, I get that traditions have cultural meaning, but physics doesn’t care about superstition. A mirror is just glass with a reflective coating. Bad luck doesn’t come flying out of it when it shatters.
Emma: Easy for you to say! You didn’t just doom yourself!
Camille: Actually, I’ve broken two mirrors in my life. And guess what? No lightning bolt from the sky. I even won a scholarship the year after the first one.
Emma: [narrowing her eyes] Maybe you were immune. But me… I just know. Something awful is going to happen. Should I throw salt over my shoulder or knock on wood or something?
Camille: If it’ll make you feel better, sure. But you know what actually works against bad outcomes? Preparing for them. Instead of worrying about abstract bad luck, why not check your tires, get a flu shot, or back up your computer?
Emma: [sighing] That’s so boring, Camille. Where’s the magic in that?
Camille: Magic is fun — until it starts stressing you out. Besides, don’t you remember last month when you thought seeing a black cat meant disaster, but it was just your neighbor’s cat, Lucien, who needed rescuing from a tree?
Emma: [smiling reluctantly] Okay, yes… and you climbed up to save him.
Camille: Exactly. And if anything, you brought good luck to Lucien that day.
Emma: Hmm. So maybe… maybe the mirror thing is just a story we tell ourselves. But it feels real. Like it connects me to something older, something mysterious.
Camille: And that’s fair! Traditions connect us to history. But we can appreciate them without letting them control us. How about this: I’ll help you clean up, and we’ll go get pastries. Best antidote to bad luck is a good croissant.
Emma: [laughing] You’re impossible. Fine. But if I trip on the way there, I’m blaming you and your smug rationalism.
Camille: Deal. And if we survive the bakery, maybe next we tackle your fear of walking under ladders?
Emma: [grinning] Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Madame Skeptic.
[They both laugh, sweeping up the last shards and heading out the door.]
Science Vs Superstition 
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