Chicklit & Women's Fiction | Flash Fiction Prompts

Prompt 14 || Picture Prompt

Madam Sybll was her name, or at least, it was the name she gave me. With one look at my tear-stained, red eyes and the library book clutched in my hands she ushered me inside with a whoosh of her beaded shawl.

She sat me down on an overstuffed armchair, a crystal ball and deck of tarot cards on the coffee table before me. I was always a skeptic, never believing in shamans or oracles, but for today- I would set my nonbelief aside just for now. She called me her child and told me that sorrow was like a storm, there will be an eye and there will be an end. She told me to unburden myself, to walk upon this earth as light as a bird. She showed me my life, flashes of success, of misfortune. Of a happy end, one surrounded by loved ones and without pain. She told me of a woman who would come into my life, who would lay a hand on my shoulder as I put the pieces of my life back together. She sent me away refusing payment, telling me to stop by the cafe whilst I waited for my truck to be ready.

That's where Illiana was- a woman with kind eyes and a bright smile. She asked about my book, and I didn't even notice the hours slip by as we talked and laughed- and I found all thoughts of Will were banished from my mind.

***

WINNER 2: ghostedsneeze

I have to admit it to myself. I'm lost.

No map, no service, my phone had died anyway, and no charger. It's kind of my fault for taking an impromptu road trip without any preparation, but I think I'm entitled to some indignation at the injustice of it all. After all, injustice is what put me on this trip in the first place.

Suddenly in the distance, rising out of the horizon like a behemoth, materializes an ugly red sign. I glare at it. After a tug of war with myself, I give in to the more reckless side of the rope and make a quick turn. It's tiny, tucked away in a tiny center consisting of a cramped diner and a thrift shop. A small bell tinkles as I slowly enter.

I'd expected an old woman with a turban and a plastic ball. Instead, a devilishly handsome man sits languidly behind a table, smiling at me knowingly. A cup of tea steams in front of him. As though he knew I was coming.

I sit. His eyes sparkle.

"Drink the tea," he says. "Or not, if you're paranoid, but tea leaves are pretty accurate." I drink, feeling stupid and ready to choke. He plucks the cup from my hand.

"You're lost," he says after examination. "And who's the guy with the E name?"

"Edmund," I stammer in surprise.

"Protector of fortunes," he murmurs. "I'm guessing he didn't do much of that?"

"No," I admit. "He spent it all and told everyone I did it."

"Oh, the injustice," he says solemnly... but winks. The tea jumps pleasantly in my stomach as he continues.

"Hm," he says in surprise. "A J. Must mean me. Jack." I blink at the normality of the name as he frowns. "Or C for Carmen."

"How-"

"Your necklace, love."

Then he mutters, "Or maybe both?"

I wonder if there was something in that tea after all.

"I don't make a habit out of poisoning people, you know," he says, amused. "I see a long, rich life ahead of you, actually. Now pick a card, and we'll see about getting you a map."

I look down at the tarot cards that hadn't been there before. The first card: the Star.

"Hope," says Jack softly.

***

WINNER 3: nervousgaylaughter

Mama always used to say, "Choose a job you love, and you'll never have to work a day in your life."

I gaze at the rusty red sign through the window. 'Fortune Teller.'

Mama was always right.

The bell above the door chimes. Two people enter: a charming young man standing straight, and a woman clinging to his arm, eyes darting around the room.

"Welcome," I call, beckoning them over towards me.

The small room is covered in pictures and thank-you notes, and the chairs around my table are cushy and adorned with flowers. I hug a pillow in my lap.

The couple sits down across from me. I notice that they must be in their late-twenties. Suddenly, I feel a pressure in my stomach. I exhale slowly, concentrating on the sensation.

"I don't normally skip the pleasantries," I say, my eyes closing. "But it's clear as day. You're pregnant!"

The woman gasps. "Yes, nine weeks."

"We came today to see about the baby." The man shifts in his chair. "We'd been trying, but with no luck until now. We just want to know if our baby will make it."

I close my eyes. Dismissing external stimuli, I slip into my own mind. I'm filled with an overwhelming sense of relief emanating from my chest and cascading through my arms and legs.

"I sense a fortunate outcome," I say. "The baby will live, I'm certain of it."

The woman clutches her husband's hands. He laughs, a hopeful smile spreading across his face.

"Thank you," the woman breathes into my shoulder, her arms around me. "You have no idea how much this means to us."

We're standing just outside of my shop, watching as her husband starts the car.

"Come back anytime," I tell her. "You and your family are always welcome here."

As they pull out of the lot and wave their goodbyes, I feel fulfilled. I love helping people every single day. I lean against the post holding up the red sign, my heart full and floating.

The heavy metal sign above me rips off, instantly crushing my body. I barely have time to react before everything goes black.