My Right Foot

I entered the darkened corridor in front of the stairs that lead to my parent's apartment. Jack was skipping in front of me humming a song sung in half Albanian half English. A neighbor walked by and as is customary we stopped to chat.

"Is your foot still hurting?"
"Well, it's my other one," I responded feeling sheepish.
"E ke sy, mos e diskuto me," she said with an agitated wave of her hands ("It's the evil eye, no doubt about it").

Yes. I hurt my other foot. My right foot. It was a 2 liter water bottle frozen solid that fell on my big toe as I opened the freezer to get some ice. Whether the evil eye caused this I don't know, but I am frustrated and sad that I cannot walk once again. My mother has slipped a few cloves of garlic in my purse to ward off said evil eye, all the while saying: "Marshallah," to me and Jack routinely throughout the day.

I have pictures for you and stories, and recipes, but they will have to wait. Send healing thoughts my way. I need this toe to get better in five days or else they'll have to escort me to the departure gate.

Stay safe.
E.