Six six six

Today’s date reminds me of a true story. Many years ago—I think I must have been thirteen at the time—we spent a maths class at school on statistics. We were organised into pairs, and each pair had three dice. We too it in turns to throw the dice and note the results.

After a number of throws, I announced that I was going to get treble six—6-6-6—on my next throw. I don’t know why I thought that. I hadn’t said it before, nor had I previously obtained that result, but on that throw, I felt sure that it would be three sixes.

I threw the dice one at a time to increase the suspense. After my first two dice had come out as sixes, I prepared to throw the third die. To the astonishment of myself and my colleague, it too was a six.

Did I foresee the result? Did some malevolent force guide my accurs’t hand? I don’t think so. More likely, it was just a coincidence—a very spooky coincidence.

Then again, maybe I’m the Antichrist. Who can be sure?!