I had felt the touch of the wraith for some time when I went to visit a psychic.
“When do I die?” I asked her.
The woman – I had forgotten her name already – gave me a funny look.
“Just, y’know, do your little crystal ball thing and tell me.” I waved my fingers around for effect. “Hurry up!”
Pursing her lips, the psychic said. “I don’t need a crystal ball to know your fate.”
“You don’t?”
She pointed at a stack of newspapers next to the door, bound up for recycling. “I just read your obituary. You died last week.”
Thanks for reading!
If you like what I do, please consider showing your support with a one-time donation through Ko-fi!
To keep up with future author updates, weekly flash fiction, writing advice, and book reviews, subscribe to my monthly newsletter!
Processing…
Success! You're on the list.
Whoops! There was an error and we couldn't process your subscription. Please reload the page and try again.
