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The church is small and white and a man stands flashing a grin because even he knows how ridiculous this is. I roll up, roll down my window and receive a prayer. The sign of the cross smeared across my forehead. “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” I feel blessed but I will be damned if I leave these ashes on my forehead another minute, so I wash them off when I get home and isn’t it funny how only an hour or so after eating fast food we are hungry again.