Disclaimer: Story and characters belong to Wendy Raimi. Do not use without permission. Do not archive unless without author's permission.

Rating: G

    I sit at my desk, all prepared to start my homework. I've got some hard rock CD playing in my stereo and I'm feeling really awesome. For a moment I wish I had some sort of pot hanging around, but that just feels really dorky. What next, I really will download those hacker programs I've been wanting? Whatever. I pull out my pot. Cinammon incense. Just what I've been needing ever since I got off the computer. What I need when I have to do math homework. I stick the incense in the burner and then reach for my matches.

Only they're not there.

I blink. I remember leaving them there.

I begin to look around my desk. Under some notepads. Next to my fake rosewood buddha. Next to the Wakko and Dot statues. I even begin to look on the floor, in all my desk drawers. My bed, my night stand...I head into my bathroom.

No match box.

Where the ---??  I begin to think as I sit back down at my desk.

I look at the little Zen buddha monk that's lying on my desk. The glance of drifting off to space on his face. He's just a statue.

And then I look to my rosewood buddha and debate burning incense in his name.

And then it hits me.

I look to my statue that I have of the Virgin Mary. Her arms opened wide to greet the world in forgivness. That pink smile on her plastic face. Her eyes so caring. So loving.

My god! She stole my matches!

I pick her up and look under her. No matches, but I swear to her little adulterous deity that she stole my matches!  I knew it! She thought I've been burning incense to buddha all this time when in fact I just like the smell of the incense.

Oh my god! That Virigin stole my matches to keep my from burning the incense!

    I begin to freak as I race down the stairs and reach into the kitchen's medicine cabinet. I grab another box of matches and race back upstairs. Plopping myself into my chair, I pull out a match, strike it, and light the incense. Blowing out the match, I set it in my ash tray and then ever so carefully put the match box in the top drawer of my desk.  I nestle it between the incense I keep in there and slowly close the drawer.

Dear god, don't let the Virigin Mary steal my matches again.

I swear I'm just burning it for the smell.

Four hours later I find out my mom had borrowed my matches. She took the match box with her and never returned it.