If salt is spilled, throw a pinch over your left shoulder to avoid bad luck

[Scene: A cosy kitchen in Manchester. Emma is making scrambled eggs while her friend Daniel sits at the table with a cup of tea.]

Emma: (gasps) Oh no, I’ve just spilt the salt!
(quickly pinches some and tosses it over her left shoulder) There. That should stop any bad luck.

Daniel: (raising an eyebrow) Did you just… throw salt behind you?

Emma: Of course I did. Everyone knows if you spill salt, you’ve got to throw some over your left shoulder. Otherwise, bad luck will follow you all day.

Daniel: Emma, that’s just a superstition. You know the only thing behind your left shoulder is my freshly cleaned floor.

Emma: (smiling) Well, better a messy floor than a curse of bad luck!

Daniel: Honestly, where do you even think that comes from? Do you imagine the universe is sitting there saying, “Right, Emma spilt some salt, let’s ruin her week unless she lobs a bit behind her back”?

Emma: (laughs) It’s not like that. It’s tradition. My gran used to tell me the devil stands over your left shoulder, and the salt blinds him so he can’t cause trouble.

Daniel: Ah, so your gran trained you to salt the devil like he’s a chip?

Emma: (giggles) When you put it that way, it does sound silly. But you can’t deny—people have believed it for centuries. There must be some truth to it.

Daniel: People used to believe the earth was flat, too. Doesn’t make it true.

Emma: True, but… I once ignored it, years ago, when I spilt salt at work. That same day, my car broke down on the motorway. Coincidence?

Daniel: Definitely coincidence. Think about it—how many days have you thrown salt over your shoulder and still had bad days?

Emma: (pauses) Well… there was that time I lost my wallet. And the time my cat got sick.

Daniel: Exactly. If the salt really worked, your life would be disaster-proof by now.

Emma: (smiling reluctantly) You’ve got a point. Still, it makes me feel better. It’s like a safety blanket.

Daniel: I get that. Rituals can be comforting. But instead of wasting perfectly good salt, why not make a new tradition—like taking a deep breath, or telling yourself, “Okay, little accident, but I’m fine.” That way you get the comfort without turning the kitchen into a crime scene.

Emma: (grinning) So no seasoning the devil, just seasoning my scrambled eggs?

Daniel: Exactly. And if the devil is standing behind you, at least he’ll smell delicious.

Emma: (laughs) Fine, but if something goes wrong today, I’m blaming you.

Daniel: Deal. But if nothing goes wrong, you’re buying the next round at the pub.

Emma: (mock sigh) Looks like I’m paying, then.