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I don’t remember the first time I made an 11:11 wish. Sometime after I’d quit wishing on dandelions and rogue eyelashes. I’d be in class and someone would excitedly grab my arm, “It’s 11:11! Make a wish!” And I would, though I’m not sure why; I’d wish for something fleeting and of low import like some 15-year-old boy’s affections and it became habit, to wish for useless trivialities.