Robert's Flash Fiction

12/15/04 - The Fortune Teller

The Fortune Teller
By: Robert Watson


There was once an old fortuneteller who had a shop along the polluted streets of a city in France. Her name was Madame Sanxay and she resided in a small hut near the Loire River by herself. Her customers were few and far between, although she was well known throughout the country for her remarkable talent. She knew she was going to pass away sometime in the near future, and in her heart she longed to see somebody close to her before she moved on to the other world.

One day, she was about to close up her shop when a young man opened the door and stepped inside the dusty room.

“Why, come in,” she told him in her raspy voice.

The man walked around and sat down in a chair in front of a crystal ball. “Madame, I heard you tell great fortunes. Tell me, what is my future?”

“Very well, then,” the fortuneteller said. “I usually only do readings by appointment, but this can be an exception. There’s something about you that’s peculiar.” The fortuneteller sat down on the opposite side of the table and gazed into the crystal ball.

A few moments later, she put both hands over her heart and looked ready to faint. She gasped for air and mumbled a few words under her breath.

“What is it, Madame? What do you see?”

The fortuneteller looked into the man’s eyes. Her own were filled to the brim with tears. “Alexandre?” she asked, whispering.

“Yes, mother, it is I,” he replied gravely.

Mother and son embraced each other warmly for the first time in over twenty years. The two of them had finally been reunited. The old fortuneteller could now die in peace, knowing that her son was alive and well.

Words: 296