[Scene: A small flat in Manchester. The sound of something shattering echoes from the bathroom.]
Emma: (running in) Oh no, Tom! Tell me that wasn’t what I think it was.
Tom: (holding a dustpan) Afraid so. Your bathroom mirror is officially in pieces.
Emma: (gasps) You’ve doomed us both! Seven years of bad luck, Tom! Seven!
Tom: (laughs) Seriously? You can’t honestly believe a bit of glass has the power to ruin your life for nearly a decade.
Emma: It’s not just glass. Mirrors have always been seen as reflections of the soul. Break one, and you’re basically shattering your spirit. That’s why the bad luck follows.
Tom: Or, more realistically, you’re shattering a fragile rectangle from IKEA that cost £25.
Emma: Don’t joke! My aunt once broke a mirror, and the very next week her car broke down, she lost her job, and her cat scratched her sofa to ribbons. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
Tom: (grinning) Or maybe she didn’t service her car, her boss was a nightmare, and the cat was just being a cat. You’re connecting dots that aren’t actually connected.
Emma: But the pattern is too strong to ignore. Loads of cultures believe in this. The Romans, for example, thought life renewed itself every seven years, so a broken mirror cursed you until your cycle reset.
Tom: And the Romans also thought garlic could ward off evil spirits. Doesn’t mean you should rub yourself with garlic before bed.
Emma: (snorts) Well, at least garlic keeps vampires away.
Tom: And potential partners.
Emma: (laughing) Fair point. But still, don’t you ever worry about tempting fate?
Tom: Honestly? No. If bad luck really came from mirrors, then every pub bathroom in Britain would be a disaster zone. People crack mirrors all the time. Where are the hordes of cursed folks stumbling around under dark clouds?
Emma: Maybe they’re just quieter about it.
Tom: (teasing) Oh yes, the secret society of mirror breakers, all walking around with flat tyres, stubbed toes, and burnt toast.
Emma: You’re making fun of me.
Tom: Only a little. Look, I get it—it’s a comforting idea, right? Blame the mirror instead of random chance. But science is pretty clear: your luck doesn’t change because of broken glass. You might cut your hand cleaning it up, but that’s cause and effect, not destiny.
Emma: So what do you suggest I do? Just… sweep it up and carry on like nothing happened?
Tom: Exactly. Or, if it helps, treat it like an opportunity. Seven years of good luck. Reverse the curse!
Emma: (smiles) I like that. So instead of expecting misfortune, I’ll expect miracles?
Tom: Now you’re talking. Plus, think about it: if bad luck lasts seven years, I’d already be cursed for life. I’ve broken at least three mirrors, dropped countless salt shakers, and walked under more ladders than I can count.
Emma: And yet here you are, healthy, happy, and still irritating me on a daily basis.
Tom: See? Proof the curse isn’t real.
Emma: Fine, you win. But I’m still buying a new mirror tomorrow. I can’t live with seven years of bad hair days.
Tom: (grinning) Now that’s a legitimate disaster.
Science Vs Superstition 
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