A woman visited a psychic of some local repute. In a
dark and hazy
room, peering into a crystal ball, the mystic
delivered grave news:
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be
blunt - prepare
yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a
violent and horrible
death this year."
Visibly shaken, the woman stared intently at the
psychic's lined
face, then at the single flickering candle, then down
at her hands.
She took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She
simply had to
know. So she met the fortune teller's gaze, steadied
her voice, and
asked her next question:
"Will I be acquitted?"
dark and hazy
room, peering into a crystal ball, the mystic
delivered grave news:
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be
blunt - prepare
yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a
violent and horrible
death this year."
Visibly shaken, the woman stared intently at the
psychic's lined
face, then at the single flickering candle, then down
at her hands.
She took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She
simply had to
know. So she met the fortune teller's gaze, steadied
her voice, and
asked her next question:
"Will I be acquitted?"
