Ficlets

I sit at the table,my eyes staring off into space into what she thinks is a trance. How come people are so gullible? I argue that I am doing a community service.I tell people that I see “fame,fortune,and love” in their future,and they’re satisfied with my services.Sometimes, it’s not so easy. They ask you to talk to the dead,like right now. It’s times like these that I must be creative.

“What is the name of the person that you seek?” I say in a monotonous tone.

The old woman replied in a shaky voice.
“Henry,Henry Dyer.”

“How did he came to die?”

“A drunk driver,Henry was riding his bike.”

Ahh,that would help.Obviously Henry is a grandson,and she is feeling some sorrow about his death,so she decided to see a swami to see if he was happy in heaven.I gasp dramatically.

“I am fine,don’t worry about the tragedy of my death,nothing matters except to be happy where I am now. Grandmother, be at peace.”

The old lady places the money on the table and leaves smiling.

My job is never done…