So Predictable

     

      The Psychic of the Village sat on a plush red chair inside her shop on 6^th Avenue right off Houston St. She was wearing a purple tracksuit and chewed gum as she stared at her iPhone. On the small table next to her were a stack of tarot cards and some candles. She was going to tell me my future. Not my whole future. That would require a $75 tarot card reading. Instead I opted for the $10 face reading. She would tell me all about myself just by looking at my face.

       She looked at me and told me I will live a long and happy life. That’s a relief. I will have a successful career and my work will involve people. That’s so vague, how could it not be true? And there was more good news: I have many admirers.  One in particular stood out to her. There was an age gap between the mystery admirer and me. I asked if the admirer was older or younger. The Psychic of the Village told me it could be either one, she wasn’t sure. Nobody’s perfect.

      I listened attentively as she told me about me. I was a worrier, but I worry about the right things. I’m more focused on career than finding love and I should stay this way. Love will come when I’m not expecting it. I’m considering a change in address, and I will make the right decision about this. I am creative. I have a good head on my shoulders. She was incredibly flattering, which was considerate since she had already taken my $10.

     She ended the reading with a warning, something more concrete than the other things she had said.

    “I see someone close to you named Michael. Don’t trust him; he’s an enemy.”

     One of my roommates is named Michael. But he isn’t an enemy; he’s one of my best friends. Or so I thought.

     I resisted the urge to pay the psychic $25 for the palm reading which she promised would include more details about my future. So many great things were going to happen to me, why wouldn’t I want to know?

     On the walk back to the subway, I temporarily suspended my disbelief. I pretended the psychic was right and that she wasn’t just telling me what I wanted to hear. It was comforting to think that even though I have no idea where my life is heading, someone else does. I would be fine, but first I’d have to kill Michael.