Elizabeth sat in front of her computer, a notecard with the name “Jenna Keates” next to her. She had an address- 19 Bankway Avenue- so she had an IP Address. With a sigh, Elizabeth prepared to break into Jenna Keates’ computer.

The fluorescent sign flickered dully, a few feet away from where Elizabeth sat. A little later and she was in- Jenna had grown up in Brooklyn. Her pictures showed her with man after man after man- and she looked sadder with every passing photograph. Well, perhaps Jenna had much the same social life as Elizabeth herself.

That was interesting- there seemed to be a few rent notices on the woman’s desktop. Pay or you will be evicted. Poor thing; rent was a pain. Glancing at Word documents, she found a few half-finished stories. Perfect.

Rubbing her eyes, Elizabeth picked up the phone and dialed the number. “Jenna? This is Elizabeth, the psychic. I feel the time is right for you to consult me…”

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