Semi-Daily Scribbles

“I feel like a murmur that troubles one's sleep.”

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"People are uncomfortable around me. I catch their eyes flitting downward, or darting off to the side when they see me coming. Maybe it's because I tell them things they don't want to hear."

"Not everyone appreciates unsolicited predictions. People prefer their own versions of the future." Judith's expression turned grim, her lips compressed into a thin line. We tried having this conversation before, but it resulted in each of us giving the other the silent treatment for two weeks.

"Patty, it is out of a sense of duty that I provide my service. I know how everyone's story plays out. If I slip someone a glimpse of things to come, maybe that person can make better use of his time." I took a deep breath, weighing the consequences of saying anything at all, but words came nonetheless.

"Aren't you in the least bit concerned about altering fate? You're playing a dangerous game revealing things before they happen."

"It's not a game," whispered Judith. "If I were you, I'd be suspicious of the shadows. There's not a whole lot I can do to keep them where they belong."

“Oh. That sounds…nice.” Zoë looked down at the envelope and turned it over. She studied the seal on the flap. It was gold colored with crisscrossing vines forming a heart shape. She had seen it before, but time was unreliable on this Wednesday morning. As she stood in the warm patch of January sun, on a cracked sidewalk along a deserted street, Zoë stared at the design with unabashed intensity. She sensed Diana was watching her with amusement, but Zoë stood still as she let the hazy image fill her mind. Street lamps and cobblestone flashed before her, and a multi-story brick building came into focus. Pools of soft golden light spilled from shadowy windowpanes. An elaborate carving of winding ivy adorned large wooden doors better suited for a medieval fortress. The foliage swayed to and fro before joining to make a heart that fluttered in the evening breeze. Zoë’s unexpected vision was melancholy and beautiful, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Diana finally spoke, breaking the spell.

“That’s the logo for our art studio,” she said, tilting her head toward the envelope. “Benny and I live there, too. It’s where we’re having the party. I do hope you’ll come.” The voluptuous redhead, with her square jaw and delicate hands, turned to leave. She looked back over her shoulder at Zoë, who was clutching the invitation to her breast. Diana smiled, happy in the knowledge that the message had been received. “Oh, and one more thing. When people tell you to leave the past behind, don’t believe it for a second. You may accept their words with kindness, but don't follow their advice.”