Disclaimer: Not mine!
Authors Note: 10 minute piece of writing. I had fun. Hope you enjoy!
"Tell me who you love," the woman crooned, her crazy hair tied back with a bright purple scarf, and another scarf hid her face. "And I'll tell you who you are..."
Josh tried to look nonchalant, but he was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was crouched in a dark room made to look like a tent with music that was a mix between squeaking dolphins, Bob Marley, and the Twilight Zone.
Why was Josh here? Because, he, Joshua Lyman, lost a bet to Sam, and was now at a fortune tellers', attempting to learn the outcome of the presidential elections.
"I'm not here to learn about myself." He paused, feeling somewhat foolish. "I just want to know what's going to happen next week. Will President Bartlet win the re-election?"
"Whom do you love..." She repeated, her voice low and husky, almost familiar, "Look carefully deep inside your soul."
"I don't know, who cares? Can you stop this crazy... thing?" Josh begged, wishing himself anywhere but there..
The woman shook her head, and grinned. She had layers of dark eye shadow, thick black eye-liner, and lidded eyes. The rest of her face was hidden from view.
"Ah, but I am curious. I will only answer your request once you answer mine. I can tell that you are in love with someone. It shows. It is very important. Who?"
Josh remained silent. She narrowed her eyes at him, then her eyes fluttered upward and then stared straight past Josh into the distance.
"I see..." Her heavy, somewhat French accent, (or was it Spanish? Or Canadian? Or Chinese?) lessened. "Her name is of Italian roots." Josh froze.
"She has dark blonde hair from Wisconsin... or no. Canada. No... Wisconsin. And alabaster skin. She's with you because of an accident, by accident, but on purpose."
He gulped.
"Don't worry Joshua. I see... it is a secret. No one can know. You think she cannot know either." She laughed suddenly, making Josh jump. "You don't think she knows. Do you?"
At this point, Josh wasn't sure what he should say, however to his relief the hunched over woman continued to stare past him and didn't wait for answer.
"She knows." She finished with small laugh.
"Hey. I've got to—" Josh grabbed his coat, shoved a twenty at her, and hurried out the room. "Go."
The alleged fortune teller closed the door behind the retreating Joshua, then reached into the folds of her skirt, and pulled out a tiny cell phone. She removed the veil, straightened, and flicked the lights on revealing a tiny studio apartment with blankets and pillows strewn around a round table in the middle, and in the corner a kitchenette. She dialed a phone number, and began to wipe off eye make-up.
"Hello?"
"Sam, my man!" She couldn't stop grinning. "You owe me big time."
"CJ! and, how did it go?"
"Perfectly. The expression on his face was absolutely precious."
"Tell me who you love," the woman crooned, her crazy hair tied back with a bright purple scarf, and another scarf hid her face. "And I'll tell you who you are..."
Josh tried to look nonchalant, but he was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was crouched in a dark room made to look like a tent with music that was a mix between squeaking dolphins, Bob Marley, and the Twilight Zone.
Why was Josh here? Because, he, Joshua Lyman, lost a bet to Sam, and was now at a fortune tellers', attempting to learn the outcome of the presidential elections.
"I'm not here to learn about myself." He paused, feeling somewhat foolish. "I just want to know what's going to happen next week. Will President Bartlet win the re-election?"
"Whom do you love..." She repeated, her voice low and husky, almost familiar, "Look carefully deep inside your soul."
"I don't know, who cares? Can you stop this crazy... thing?" Josh begged, wishing himself anywhere but there..
The woman shook her head, and grinned. She had layers of dark eye shadow, thick black eye-liner, and lidded eyes. The rest of her face was hidden from view.
"Ah, but I am curious. I will only answer your request once you answer mine. I can tell that you are in love with someone. It shows. It is very important. Who?"
Josh remained silent. She narrowed her eyes at him, then her eyes fluttered upward and then stared straight past Josh into the distance.
"I see..." Her heavy, somewhat French accent, (or was it Spanish? Or Canadian? Or Chinese?) lessened. "Her name is of Italian roots." Josh froze.
"She has dark blonde hair from Wisconsin... or no. Canada. No... Wisconsin. And alabaster skin. She's with you because of an accident, by accident, but on purpose."
He gulped.
"Don't worry Joshua. I see... it is a secret. No one can know. You think she cannot know either." She laughed suddenly, making Josh jump. "You don't think she knows. Do you?"
At this point, Josh wasn't sure what he should say, however to his relief the hunched over woman continued to stare past him and didn't wait for answer.
"She knows." She finished with small laugh.
"Hey. I've got to—" Josh grabbed his coat, shoved a twenty at her, and hurried out the room. "Go."
The alleged fortune teller closed the door behind the retreating Joshua, then reached into the folds of her skirt, and pulled out a tiny cell phone. She removed the veil, straightened, and flicked the lights on revealing a tiny studio apartment with blankets and pillows strewn around a round table in the middle, and in the corner a kitchenette. She dialed a phone number, and began to wipe off eye make-up.
"Hello?"
"Sam, my man!" She couldn't stop grinning. "You owe me big time."
"CJ! and, how did it go?"
"Perfectly. The expression on his face was absolutely precious."