Suddenly you look up and the shooting star catches you unaware. Make a wish you say to yourself out loud. Make a wish and it will come true. And then you say: who told you that? Such bullshit! But you make a wish anyway. Very quietly. Very much to yourself lest a neighbor hear you and report you to your wife.
The shooting star has shot by already. The dark envelops you once more. The light of the store on the corner is your beacon. You walk like a zombie. Milk, a gallon of milk, you repeat to yourself like a mantra when you see the car. The lights blind you. Where is this guy going the wrong way you ask yourself and the next instant your wish comes true.
(From the series of short-shorts "Desperate Husbands".)