Labels

August 23, 2019

The Fortune Teller (Fiction)

Alex Smith was on their way home from school when they got a little sidetracked. 
They were taking a shortcut through Chinatown and curiosity seemed to get the better of them. 
They didn’t normally pass by Oak St., dead-end alleyway that it was, but there was some 
construction work being done on the route they would normally take. To avoid this, they took a 
different route.
So it was, on that Friday evening, they passed by that fateful alleyway. They would have passed 
right by, if not for the small crowd of homeless people gathered by the entrance. Listening in, 
Alex could hear them speaking in reverence about a figure they called “The Fortune Teller.” 
They decided to ask one of them about this “Fortune Teller,” and so tapped the shoulder of a 
woman next to them. 
“Excuse me,” they asked, “who is this ‘Fortune Teller’ I keep hearing about?” 
The woman gasped, clasping her hands together. 
“Oh the Fortune Teller is a divine prophet of Siming,” she said in a raspy voice, “and he will 
tell you what your destiny holds - so long as you have an offering.” 
Though unnerved, Alex thanked her. Now, you’d think this would cause Alex to continue on 
their merry way.
You’d be wrong.

Alex felt weirdly drawn to whoever was at the end of the alleyway, so they decided to push 
through the crowd to meet the Fortune Teller. When they arrived, they were met with an 
interesting sight: a pavilion made out of garbage bags and clotheslines. For what it was, it 
honestly looked pretty grand, and surprisingly fancy. Two men were guarding the entrance, and 
at first they barred Alex’s path. It was at that exact moment that Alex met this fabled 
Fortune Teller. 
Alex was not surprised by the sight before them per say, but they were still hoping for 
something more impressive. The Fortune Teller was not an impressive sight. Though he smiled 
wide, what was left of his teeth were worn and yellow and cracked; though his arms were wide 
and welcoming, his skin was old and wrinkly; though he stood proud, he did not stand tall, 
hunched over as he was; and though he was dressed - albeit in rags - one could see his bones 
jutting out against his skin. Even still, he vibrated with an nervous energy, and in an excited 
voice insisted to the guards that they let Alex in.
The first thing Alex noticed when taking in their surroundings, was the large pile of fortune 
cookies stacked against the wall. Presumably, that’s where the Fortune Teller got his name. The 
second thing was the pile of discarded needles. These must be the offerings the woman from 
earlier was talking about.
“I was expecting you,” said the Fortune Teller, snapping Alex’s attention back to him, “it was 
foretold that you’d come here. I was told by Siming, blessed be the lord of Fate, that you would 
be arriving to start your journey.” As he talked, his hands twitched rapidly, and his eyes stared 
earnestly at Alex. Alex couldn’t help but notice that his pupils were unnervingly wide, but 
didn’t have time to dwell on it before he scurried over to the cookie pile and began searching. 
Finally, he chose one and presented it to Alex. Alex cracked it. 
“Well?” said the Fortune Teller expectantly. “Read it.” So, with a great deal of apprehension, 
Alex read their fortune aloud: 
“‘Your shoes will make you happy today.’” They stared quizzically at the old man. 
“No, no, no, that’s not right, that’s not right at all,” the old man said. He went back to the pile 
and dug around some more. After a minute, he found another one, and presented it to Alex. 
Alex cracked it, and once again read aloud:
“‘A very attractive person has a message for you.’” By this point, Alex was getting impatient. 
“Look,” they said, “I’m running late, and I really need to get home, so if I could justー”
“No! Please!” said the old man, grasping at their shirt. “Allow me just one more chance.” 
Alex sighed and rolled their eyes. “Fine,” they said, “but only one.” So the old man searched 
one last time, and gave them one last cookie. Taking it, Alex cracked this one. “It’s blank,” they 
said. At this, the Fortune Teller smiled. 
“All will be revealed with time. Now go, and do not lose your fortune.” At that, Alex left the 
pavilion, arriving back home that evening. 
The old man, meanwhile, was hooked on narcotics. Not the prophet he thought he was, his 
followers kept the drugs flowing, perpetuating his addiction. Fortunately, his daughter finally 
managed to get him the help he needed, taking care of him, and making sure rehabilitation 
would restore him to his former self.

Word Count:
800

No comments:

Post a Comment