by Dianne Lindstrom
“Can you really tell my future in a glass of wine?” Eyebrows scrunched together, the client was skeptical.
“Of course, for you, I can. Why do you doubt me?” Looking innocent, the fortune teller shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, okay. I guess you’ve been right before.” Shifting her weight in the chair, the client starred at the glass of wine.
The glass was centered on the ivory-colored lace doily. It was a goblet made of crystal-clear glass. The wine was red, almost crimson. Visible through the wine glass, every detail of the doily was sharp.
“Now close your eyes and breathe deeply. Breathe in. Breathe out.” The client obeyed. As the client relaxed, the fortune teller grabbed the glass of wine. She downed it in a few short glugs. As she wiped her lips, the client had disappeared, too.