A normal man

He didn't consider himself superstitious, just cautious. So he avoided stepping on every 3rd tile on the floor and the cracks on the footpath.

Still, there were peculiarities in his behavior some considered superstitious. Or just plain crazy.

Like his refusal to utter the word "marvellous" in public. There was no apparent reason for this phobia, except that he feared something horrible would happen to him if he ever spoke the word. Now most of us could go through life without ever even experiencing the urge to say the word aloud, but not him. Whenever he talked with friends or family, the word "marvellous" occupied the forefront of his mind, and no matter how much he tried not to think of the word, it was like trying to ignore a rhino sitting on his living room sofa watching TV. It became such a problem for him that he would often blurt out "marlovimpernel" or "maverick murgunjel" for no apparent reason. Friends thought him eccentric. They rather enjoyed his playfulness.

But this wasn't his only quirk. He also felt an irrational need to skip whenever the song "Happy birthday to you" was sung. This created a serious problem for him at birthday parties.

Otherwise, he led a nearly normal life, considering he always kept 3 handkerchiefs with him and he clicked the heels of his shoes against each other 9 times each time he wore them.

Despite his quirks, he managed. He had a good many friends. After all, while most of us strive for normalcy, the people we most fondly remember are the eccentrics. And he was certainly memorable. He entered his car only through the back seat.

People made allowances for him because, like a young child, he was fun to be with. It was a miracle to many people, but he even managed to score well in his exams and made the next grade. At college, no one cared what he wore or how he entered his car, as long as he put his obsessive compulsiveness to good use and performed well in his exams.

But he grew uncomfortable with his own behavior. Although he had friends, he had no intimates. She lived with her mother across the street from him and was his closest confidant. "I admit I take a certain pleasure in people paying attention to me," he confessed to her. "Especially when I wear my red hat and sing tunes in the line at Food World.

"Which, of course, I must do to keep the computer and billing machine from catching fire."

"No, you don't," she said bluntly. "If you stop pedaling, the world will continue spinning on its axis, I assure you. Like the rest of us, you don't have much control over your environment. Stop pretending as if you do."

This shocked him, for no one had ever spoken to him quite like that before. He vowed to at least reduce his quirks. For her at least.

The next day, he chose not to count the tiles while walking, although he did step on all the cracks in the pavement, and, of course, kept 3 handkerchiefs. The earth did not quake. At the office, when he heard his colleagues singing "Happy birthday to you" for a coworker, he fought the urge to skip. His heart pounded and he grabbed the tops of his legs in a valiant effort to keep them still. He knew that she would remind him that logically there was nothing to fear from the song. Breathing like a woman in labor, he suppressed the need to skip. He even entered his car from the front seat like any other man. And nothing bad happened. The earth didn't crash. Nor did he lose his pants.

He reached home, went straight to his room. He felt so happy and free! "Marvellous!" he shouted with a huge grin on his face.

It was the last word that ever came out of his mouth.

The last time a clock ticked in this world.