Setting:
A cozy living room in Sydney. A sunny afternoon. Emma walks in, holding a brand-new pair of sneakers in a box. Liam is lounging on the couch, sipping coffee.
Emma: (excitedly) Look what I got! My new running shoes finally arrived. Aren’t they gorgeous?
Liam: (grins) Very sleek. Looks like you’ll actually have to start running now.
Emma: Ha-ha, funny. (opens the box and places the shoes on the coffee table)
Liam: (nearly spits his coffee) Emma! What are you doing?!
Emma: …Putting them down? Why, do they clash with your coffee mug?
Liam: You can’t put new shoes on the table! It’s bad luck. You’ll bring misfortune into the house.
Emma: (laughs) Oh no, should I start chanting to ward off the shoe spirits?
Liam: I’m serious! My nan used to say it all the time. Once, my cousin put his football boots on the table and broke his ankle a week later. Coincidence? I think not.
Emma: (teasing) Or maybe he broke it because he tried to tackle someone twice his size?
Liam: (crosses arms) Still, why risk it? Some things you just don’t mess with. It’s like tempting fate.
Emma: You know, these superstitions usually have practical roots. Back in the day, shoes were dirty—people worked in coal mines, farms, or stables. Putting shoes on the table could spread germs or ruin your meal. It wasn’t bad luck, it was just bad hygiene.
Liam: So you’re saying it’s just an old cleanliness rule?
Emma: Exactly! Now we have disinfectant wipes and washing machines. I’m pretty sure the universe doesn’t keep a “shoe-on-table = bad luck” scorecard.
Liam: (smirks) Tell that to my cousin’s ankle.
Emma: (laughs) Fine, maybe the “shoe gods” were out to get him. But seriously, if bad luck came from furniture arrangements, humanity wouldn’t have survived Ikea.
Liam: (chuckling) Fair point. Though I still won’t do it. Why take chances?
Emma: Because living in fear of a superstition gives it power. You’re basically saying the shoes control your fate.
Liam: (grinning) Or maybe I’m just respecting ancient wisdom. You know, keeping the universe on my good side.
Emma: (playfully) The universe doesn’t care where your sneakers sit, Liam. It cares whether you actually use them for jogging.
Liam: Touché. But if I twist my ankle this week, I’m blaming your rational thinking.
Emma: Deal. And if nothing happens, you owe me coffee for every superstition you’ve ever believed.
Liam: That’s a dangerous bet. You’ll have me broke in a week.
Emma: (laughs) Then maybe that’s your bad luck.
[They both laugh. Emma wipes the table just to appease Liam, and they settle back into a comfortable silence—shoes safely back in the box, superstition and science finding a temporary truce.]
Science Vs Superstition 
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