Im not sure how that young, welldressed woman managed to convince me to let her read my future. Wed been sharing a train compartment for more than two hours, and she made a surprisingly good impression: a thirtysomething brunette with a sharp bob, a figure that would make a woman of my size feel a little envious, and a constant, easy smile. The only thing that struck me oddly were her eyeswell, the fact that they were hidden behind dark sunglasses. On a grey, overcast day, the clouds hanging low over the countryside, she wore almost black lenses that seemed out of place. Perhaps she was trying to hide bags under her eyes or a bruise; after all, people do that.
I kept searching for any excuse that could justify her strange request, and I found plenty, but curiosity gnawed at me. We didnt know each other; all I knew was that her name was Blythe and she worked somewhere in the service industry. Asking a nearstranger, Why are you wearing those glasses in such dim light? felt intrusive, and I didnt want to pry about a possible eye condition.
So I kept quiet and indulged in the idle chatter that strangers usually share on a long journey. Then, with a sudden change of tone, she said:
Emily, shall I give you a reading? Im quite good at it. My greatgrandmother was a professional fortunetellerreal, not one of the charlatans you see on the street these days. Dont you want to know a glimpse of your fate? It could be fun!
I shrugged, a little frightened. No, I didnt want to hear what lay ahead. What if?
Thanks, Blythe, but I dont believe in cards or any of that, I replied.
Then theres nothing to fear, she said.
I tried to sound confident, but I could hear the tremor in her voice. Its your choice. No one can force you, right?
Yes, she answered, and a strange itch seemed to crawl inside my head, as if I could scratch it from the inside. Then, almost against her own will, she continued, Well then, why not? Lets try.
I opened my mouth to protest, but instead of No, thank you, I offered a polite smile. Blythe nodded, reached into her bag, and pulled out a velvet pouch. Between us, a deck of cards was placed on the small folding table.
She slipped off her sunglasses, revealing two massive lenses that completely covered her eyes. My heart lurched.
How are you going to read the cards? You cant see a thing, I whispered, startled.
Dont worry, Emily. I feel the cards; I know every one of them. I dont have many pastimes, so lets get on with it, she replied, putting the glasses back on, shielding those unsettling eyes once more.
I shrugged, forgetting that she couldnt see my movements. Blythe spread the cards in a circle, following the usual ritual, and said, Turn over the one closest to you; it shows the past.
My hands trembled as I reached for the card. It was a plain, blank sheetno picture at all. Blythe frowned.
Strange. A blank page means you had no past. How could that be? she mused.
What kind of deck is this? Normal cards never look like that, I tried to sound steady, though a chill ran through me. Are you playing a trick?
Fine, lets try again. Pick any card you like.
All I wanted was to pack my bag and leave the compartment at the next stop, to escape the voice that made my scalp prickle. Yet, obedient to her insistence, I drew another card and turned it over. It was the same spotless sheet. My suspicion grew, and I managed to ask, Shall we stop? All your cards seem to be the same. This joke isnt funny to me.
Blythes voice quivered. I assure you, Emily, the cards are ordinary. The designs are etched with a fine needle; I can feel them, but right now the sheets are perfectly smooth. Believe meIm shocked too. Try again; lets ask about the present, be bold!
I huffed, inhaled sharply, and took two cards at once, feeling them with my fingertips. As expected, there were no marksjust pristine, creamy paper. I tossed them back at her.
Maybe youve had enough of this farce. Honestly, why did you start it? I asked, my irritation evident.
She seemed bewildered and pale. I swear, I didnt intend any harm. I just thought it would be a little entertainment on the journey. Lets have one more try, for the future
I mimicked her tone, irritated, and pulled the next card. When I turned it, I saw the same blankness. I barely whispered, My future is as white as this paper. What am I supposed to do with that?
Blythes complexion turned an even paler shade, dotted with nervous freckles. Does that mean Ill die soon?
I stared at her, but didnt argue. I simply gathered my coat and bag, looked out the window, and, with a sigh of annoyance, said, How should I know? Everyone meets their end someday Ill get off at the next station; I have an urgent errand.
I bolted from the compartment without looking back, muttering, What a nuisance, ruining my mood! Looks like she wanted to run some experiment on me.
Furious, I stepped onto the platform, pulled a cigarette from my pack, and asked a thoughtful, smoking man nearby, Got a light?
He nodded, handed me a lighter, and, as he did, his eyes met mine for a moment before he slumped slightly against the graffiticovered wall. I bent down, took the lighter, lit my cigarette, and exhaled a thin ring of smoke, feeling a little calmer. The doors opened, and before stepping onto the platform, I adjusted my coat, catching a glimpse of the mans startled face.
Poor soul, seeing a skull must be quite the pleasure, isnt it? Im sorry, dear, didnt mean to frighten you. Your time isnt up yet, and honestly Im just on holiday, lost control for a bit. Even a seer cant cheat death, blind or not. You cant hide from people once theyre on your path.
Grumbling to myself, I walked onto the unfamiliar station platform. May your holiday be better than mine, Emily.
In the end, I learned that strangers may project their own fears onto us, but the only certainty we have is the choice to live each moment deliberately, regardless of the cards were handed.
