Sam acted as a Fortune Teller for years — never believing in any of it. What happens when an accident causes him to really see the future for others?
The woman rose from her seat. Tears running down her face as she reached across the table to grab his hands. “Thank you,” she managed in a whispered voice, “Thank you for telling me everything.”
“You are so welcome,” he returned mimicking her tone. “I am so happy that the spirits were so willing to share with us today.” He dabbed a handkerchief at a phantom tear. The woman, though staring right into his eyes was so believing of his every word and action saw a tear that did not exist. She, in turn, took a tissue from the box on the table and wiped away her tears – very real tears. She laid the hundred dollar bill on the table, patted his hands, and turned to walk away.
Sam heard the bing from the door chime, but held his place until the door clicked shut. He waited a few seconds to ensure that she had indeed left before letting go of his fake persona. He let out a sigh as he grabbed the money from the table. “Thank you P.T. A sucker is truly born every minute.” He chuckled as he bent the bill in half to stiffen it in order to brush the used tissues from the table into a small trash can. The money then found its home in Sam’s wallet. He thumbed through the money — $350. “Not bad for a morning,” he thought to himself.
He walked into a side room which held a desk, a filing cabinet, and coffee pot. He sat at the desk and opened the folder that sat alone in the center. The tab on the folder had the name Martha Packer stenciled in pencil. The top sheet in the folder had about half a sheet of notes – notes from her last session. He took a pen and started entering notes from today’s reading. He liked to get things down on paper while the session was fresh in his head. Mrs. Packer had provided some great clues about her marriage and deceased husband today. He wanted to use them for the next session. He thought back to how easily she provided the information for him to use in the future.
“Max wants you to know that he forgives you,” that was all Sam needed to say. The session prior he had heard Martha mumble something about forgiveness. “He says it is okay. Max doesn’t want you to worry anymore.”
Martha looked shocked at these comments having totally forgotten anything she had said in earlier sessions. “Oh, Max,” the tears started early today. “Thank you. Thank you, Max. I am so sorry. He meant nothing to me. I just wanted to get back at you when I thought you were going after your secretary.”
When Sam had first started this gig, he would find it difficult not to react to comments like this. Today, he only smiled on the inside. “Max wants you to know that it is time to find peace with this and move on.” Sam decided to throw a line out there to see if any nibbles happened. “He said it is time to go ahead and do it.”
“Max? Are you sure,” Martha questioned now so into the performance that she forgot Sam was in the room.
“Yes,” Sam tried to lower his voice a little with a sound of authority.
“Ok, Max. I’ll get the money out.”
Sam lost character for a moment as he sat straight up. Fortunately, Mrs. Parker was looking down at her hands. He started trying to figure out things to say in order to get more information. However, his client changed the topic to her own life and how certain upcoming events were going to play out for her.
Sam wrote down the notes and closed the folder. He would be seeing Mrs. Parker again in a month for their regular session. He pondered whether he should call her in a week or two to tell her that Max had more to say. He sat there thinking when he heard the chime of the door. Sam glanced at his calendar and noticed his next appointment was not for another half hour – Ms. Sherman. “Hmmm. She must be excited about something,” he thought as he closed the Parker folder. Sam had wished that she would have waited, giving him time to look through her folder prior to the session. “Oh well. Guess I have to wing it,” he muttered.
He walked out of the office, closing the curtain behind him. He looked around the room. Everything looked fine. The table cloth was smooth and touched the floor hiding anything underneath the table. Candles remained lit from the last session. He picked up a can and sprayed the lilac air freshener. Lilac worked best with Ms. Sherman – it reminded her of her childhood. All looked good.
Sam moved across the room to the other curtained door. This led to the waiting area. He pulled the curtains aside trying to make a grand entrance. Instead of a beautiful young, woman, Sam now stood nose to nose with a man who stood a good three inches taller and looked like he worked out – a lot.
“Sam Winston?” The man didn’t wait for an answer; he already knew. Before Sam could even think of an answer a fist connected with his nose. He could hear crunching as he felt his nose being pushed deep into his face. The power of the blow pushed Sam off of his balance, and he started reeling backwards. Unable to grab anything to prevent a fall, his body started tipping over. The first thing to slow his body was the table as the back of his head connected with it. He and the table then met the floor. The heavy dish that normally sat center table for incense ashes now came down the slope of the table onto his forehead. As he started losing consciousness, he heard the man yell, “Stay away from Veronica with your phony crap!” The world went black.
Sam woke up in the emergency room. The nurse glanced in his direction as she walked by. She stopped and took a step back tilting her head back. Sam tried to sit up which drew her to his bed. “Good morning,” she said in as jolly of a voice as possible.
“Morning,” Sam replied only to realize that any sound coming from his mouth caused a huge throbbing both in the front and back of his head.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t do too much talking right now. Not with the goose eggs you got.” She handed him a little white paper cup with two pills in it. She then handed him a glass of water. Sam wished for something stronger. “The police are going to be stopping by later to talk with you. They came by last night, but you were still out of it. They’ll want to know if you know who attacked you.”
“Never seen him before in my life,” Sam whispered.
“Don’t tell me. I ain’t the police.” She patted Sam on his shoulder. His hand instinctively reached up and covered hers. Flash of thoughts and voices started flashing in his head.
“Tell her I’m sorry,” came a man’s voice.
“Tell her I miss her.” This was said by both a man and woman.
“Tell Mommy that I’m okay,” a child’s voice cried out.
Sam still groggy from the concussion responded without thinking. “Your child says that he is okay.” The nurse stopped. She looked at him for a moment. Her expression which started off in shock changed to anger. She quickly checked his monitors and then spun on her heels as she stormed out of the room. Sam sat there mouth agape. He had no idea why or what he had said. He drifted back into sleep.
An hour later Sam woke to find a police officer standing sitting in his room. As he sat up in bed, the officer stood to introduce himself. “Mr. Winston?”
Sam nodded at him. “Detective Donelly. I wanted to let you know that we already have the gentlemen that did this to you in custody.” Sam pulled back at this information. While he had never met the man who laid him out and gave him a two-sided headache, he did remember hearing the name Veronica as he went down. Sam didn’t need his notes for this one, the Veronica in question was Veronica Myers. He knew why the man was pissed enough to attack a stranger.
Veronica Myers had been the first customer of the day. She had been coming for the last three weeks. Sam would admit that she had been a tough nut to crack. He had started off with the general open ended questions to start gathering information. Over the next few weeks, he felt as if he was getting a good read on her and what she wanted to hear. Veronica kept questioning her relationship with Tom. She described as a big man who could have a temper. She seemed so unsure about whether to continue with this guy or not.
This morning Sam, thinking he had figured out what she wanted to hear told her to leave him. Sam, using his trance like voice said, “All of us in the spirit world want to protect you. It is our warning to you, get out before he does something that cannot be taken back.” Veronica left in tears; Sam wondered if he had done the correct thing. He had has answer a little while later when she called thanking him.
“I cannot thank you and the spirits enough. Just before I broke up with him, he proposed. I would have said yes without thinking. But I remembered the words of the spirits and said no. I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. I think I hurt him. If it hadn’t been for you and the spirits, I would have made a huge mistake. I thought I loved him.” Veronica hung up, and Sam wondered what he had done. This feeling only lasted a moment for the door chimed and in walked his next appointment.
“I don’t want to press charges,” Sam stated as he sat up further in the bed. He wished he could, but his fear of an investigation and his reputation going down the drain.
“Mr. Winston,” Detective Donelly started.
“No!” Sam immediately regretted raising his voice. “Sir. I deal with upset customers all the time. As far as I am concerned this was just a little push. All of this is my fault that I just backed away too quickly.”
“Yeah, right,” the detective was not going to give up. “And I guess the rest of his rap sheet is filled with people who just ‘backed up too quickly’?”
“I don’t know about the rest.” Sam continued, “I can only tell you about mine.”
“Fine,” Detective Donelly let out a sigh as he closed his notebook. He was tired of people allowing the bad guy to get around with hurting others. Maybe this guy didn’t care about himself, but he should care about others who would be next. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a card. Inside he wondered why he even bothered; he would hear from this guy again.
As Sam reached out for the business card, the two hands held onto it at the same time. Sam started seeing images in his head. He saw the detective leaving his house for work after having a fight with his wife. Then he saw images of Mrs. Donelly. He could hear another voice from a distant memory saying the word “cancer.” Sam’s eyes widened as he looked at the detective.
“What? Did you remember that this man actually hit you?” Donelly sneered at Sam.
Sam’s eyes and voice softened. “I’m sorry about your wife.”
The detective pulled back tearing the card that still linked the two in half. His thoughts started spinning. They hadn’t told anybody about his wife’s illness and the fact that she was beyond treatment. He thought of the argument he had just before work. His wife wanted him to promise to find somebody once she was gone.
“You son of a bitch!” The words came out as a hiss. “I know what you do for a living and if you think you can pull that crap on me, you have another thing coming.” He dropped his half of the card on the floor. “Rot in hell you asshole.” He turned on his heels and moved as quickly as possible out the door. He needed to leave before the tears started coming. As far as he was concerned, the investigation was over. He looked forward to letting Tom out of holding. In a way, he almost hoped that he would finish what he had started.
Sam sat there more confused about what had happened since his arrival into the hospital than what placed him there. For twenty-five years he had been performing his con game giving clients false hope. Well, most of the clients received false hopes, those that came in with attitude got terrifying news. Sam actually like those the best. He remembered telling one man that he had less than two weeks to live. He was sure that the man had a large shock after spending his money on a huge Vegas spree only to still be alive past the given expiration date.
In all that time, Sam had never seen one true vision. Every single word was made up. That was until today. Today he had already heard from a deceased father and child. He saw a woman who, while still alive, was soon to be departed. Matters only grew worse when he shared the information with those still living. Unlike those who paid good money to hear from their lost loved ones, these people became upset and angry at him. Sam thought of the good money that his female clients would lay down for this type of information.
The nurse returned. Her face told him that he better not bring up any more information regarding her son. She carefully placed the BP cuff around his arm trying very hard to not touch his skin. She took his temperature and looked at the monitor to mark down his pulse. She said nothing but took notes and when not looking at the clipboard stared at him out of the corner of her eyes. Sam did not fair too well during this visit. Every time her hands came anywhere his skin he stiffened. He actually feared what he would see or hear. The last thing he wanted to do is piss off the person who would possibly be sticking needles into his body. She finished her work and left. No words exchanged.
Sam spent the next two hours by himself with the exception of quick visits by his nurse. During the last visit her hand touched his arm as she removed the IV. Sam immediately jumped into a scene of a funeral with a small casket. This stoic nurse sat in the front row. A man trying to console her but not succeeding. He then jumped back a few days prior. The man that had been with the nurse was laying on the ground in the middle of an intersection. The little boy, only a few feet away, looked to be asleep the tires of a car only a few feet away. Next a newspaper flashed about a DUI driver killing the boy and injuring the father. Then the voice of the child came back to him. “Tell Mommy it didn’t hurt. Tell her to stop crying, I am okay. Tell her that I still love her and Daddy.” A tear started rolling down Sam’s cheek. The nurse stopped with the needle out of his arm but still in her hand.
“Did I hurt you?” She asked. Her voice was much softer than the first time she had been with him. He shook his head afraid to speak. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” Sam shook his head again. “Can I get you something or call someone?” Her concern was true as the tears came one after another.
“I would rather not speak of it,” Sam could only answer in a whisper. “I don’t want to upset you again.” The nurse quickly remembered the first experience. She looked Sam straight in the eyes. She saw no malice, no anger, no type of trickery. What she did see were the eyes of sadness and pain. Sam shook his head as if to tell her not to ask any more questions. She hurried about completing her tasks. Try as she might, she could not keep the tears in her own eyes. It was as if whatever had been bothering Sam had transferred itself to her. She reached for a Kleenex as she left the room.
The doctor finally made his entrance at the end of two hours. He checked Sam over head to toe. Throughout the examination the doctor’s hand touched Sam. He opened the eyelids, touched the injuries, and listened to his heart. All of these required skin to skin contact, and yet Sam neither saw nor heard a thing. At first he thought it must be due to the doctor wearing gloves, but he looked and saw that the doctor did not have any on. Sam guess since he was only looking at his head and chest, he didn’t need any. At the end of the exam, Sam was both happy and sad that no signs had been presented to him.
“Well, you have some nasty lumps there,” the doctor stated matter-of-factly. “Though I can’t see any reason for us to really keep you. Do you have someone to stay with you if we let you go?”
“My roommate,” Sam lied. The last thing he wanted to do was stick around this place. Sam actually lived in a one-room apartment. He didn’t have anyone to come by. He hoped the doctor wouldn’t press him for more information because he would have to invent a person. He didn’t even know his neighbor’s name. If push came to shove, Sam would not even be able to describe any of his neighbors. He was a loner and that was how he liked it. “I’ll have to take a cab home. He won’t be home for a couple of hours.”
“We really shouldn’t let you go until he comes to get you,” the doctor started to protest. Well, half-protest. The emergency room was full tonight, and the doctor’s mind was more on the patient that he had just left.
“I’ll sign myself out if I need to. I really need to get out of here,” Sam said in a voice that indicated that he was resigned to leave.
“Alright. I’ll have the nurse fill out your paper work and we’ll get you a ride home,” the doctor said as he slipped the chart into the rack and started to leave.
Sam thought about how he would probably be charged $300 for that five minute visit. He didn’t care as long as he was able to leave.
Twenty minutes later the nurse returned with his paperwork. She held the clipboard out and then, thinking better of it, placed it on the table. She asked him to sign where the stickers indicated. Sam understood and picked up the pen without argument and signed away. The nurse took the clipboard and told him a car would be here soon. She started to leave.
“Peggy?” Sam called. The nurse stopped, not turning back to Sam. “Peggy,” Sam called wondering how he knew her name. “I’m sorry about earlier.” He paused. “I never would have said anything if I knew it would cause you pain.”
She turned and look at him. “I don’t believe in psychics. I don’t know how you knew, but I don’t believe in you.”
“That’s good because I don’t believe in me either,” Sam returned with a half-smile. “But today, I am not so sure. I saw things when you touched me. I saw a lot of things.” Peggy stood trying to remain emotionless, but the tears started building in her eyes. “I don’t have to tell you what I saw. You lived it, and it would do know good to tell you what you know.” Peggy nodded – the tears no longer remained in her eyes. “I am not going to tell you what I saw, but I will tell you what he said to me.”
Sam repeated the words that the child had pleaded that he relay. Peggy now sat on the foot of the bed no longer trying to control her emotions. Sam handed her the box of tissues. Another nurse came in to check on Peggy since she had been gone so long. She found her friend sobbing. At first the second nurse began to yell at Sam, but Peggy stopped her.
“No,” she said. “It’s okay. He didn’t hurt me or anything,” Peggy couldn’t believe that she was defending the man who she was ready to stab in the heart with a needle earlier. “He told me that Johnny is okay. He let me know that Johnny is okay.” Peggy tried to explain all that had happened that day. As she finished the story, the phone by Sam’s bed rang. The front desk called to say his ride was out front. Peggy stood and smoothed her hair and wiped her eyes. She grabbed a wheel chair and presented it to Sam. “I’ll take him down to the lobby.” The other nurse nodded as she now wiped her eyes. Sam was heading home – afraid, nervous, excited, planning. Life was about to change.
Peggy wheeled Sam out the front door of the hospital. She stopped the chair just short of the waiting cab. As she reached down to engage the brake, she placed her hand on his shoulder. Sam could tell that she was testing him. This time he saw nothing, but he felt that he owed her something. “He said he loves you.” The tears started flowing down her cheeks as she helped him into the back of the car. From the moment he left the hospital until he was safe in his apartment, Sam made it a point to touch no one.
For a week, Sam locked himself away. He ordered groceries and had the store deliver them. While he did allow friends to visit, he used the head injuries, and even added a couple to his shoulders, to gently ward off any hugs, shakes, or other body to body contact. He did not want to see anything else.
Try as he might, it is extremely difficult to go through life without touching people. A week after the attack, he decided he could not watch another daytime soap. He decided that it was time to go back to his business and see what he could salvage. Since he lived only a block away, he took the sidewalk and hugged the buildings. Sam made it about 100 feet when the first person bumped into him. Visions came in to Sam’s head. He saw an older gentlemen standing in an office with this person who walked passed him. Sam kept hearing the word sorry. Next he saw the man packing up his desk. Sam looked back at the man, he was smiling and whistling. The vision popped back in. The man placed a newspaper on the top of the box; it was dated the next day.
He stood across the street from his shop. The sign on the front door said “Closed Until Further Notice.” Nobody was in sight, so he jogged across quickly. He pulled out his key as he moved through the traffic. The last thing he wanted was to have to stop outside of the shop in case one of his clients came by. He opened the door enough to slide through. He quickly shut it and locked the deadbolt. Sam adjusted the curtain to cover the window. He stood with his back against the door taking in a few deep breaths.
When he felt that he was safe, he turned on the light and started for his office. Within a few steps, he felt something hit the toe of his shoe. Sam bent down to find a little troll, something that would normally be found on a keyring. He picked it up and his body felt weak. Sam grabbed for the chair as he watched the man who attacked him standing right in front of him. However, he was not looking at Sam but through him. Sam turned his head and could see his client Veronica, suitcase in hand. The man was in tears begging her to stay, he held a ring in his hands. She informed him that it was over. Her psychic had told her it was over. Sam then heard, “I really love you baby, but he told me that I had to break up with you. I don’t know why, but I have to trust him.” Sam’s stomach twisted into a knot. He dropped the troll.
He sat there dazed trying to grasp what was going on. There came a knock at the door.
Sam sat there for a moment. He dreaded opening the door and allowing people to come back through the curtain. He thought that if he remained quiet whoever stood outside would walk away. He even held his breath in fear that the person could hear his exhales. He counted slowly to 10. On number 8, thinking he was safe, he stood quietly. He stared at the door wondering. From behind him a rap came from the window on the side of the building. He turned quickly to see Ms. Norwood peering at him. The curtain was half open. “Sam? I really need to talk with you. Please open the door.”
Sam started toward the door as Ms. Norwood turned and walked to the entrance. Had it been anybody else, Sam would have made an excuse, but this lady truly was one of the reasons that Sam had the high end clientele. He had done one reading with her and got lucky. After that, Ms. Norwood told every one of her friends in high society. Thinking of this made Sam smile – rich, poor, successful, and failures, it didn’t matter they all wanted to hear about the future.
He opened the door and almost fell over as his client pushed through the door as soon as the click of the lock could be heard. She grabbed Sam and hugged him. “Oh Sam! I heard about the attacker. Are you alright?” Before Sam could even respond, she went on, “I have missed you so much. How could you stay away from me so long? I needed you.”
Sure enough, as soon as Ms. Norwood touched him, Sam started going into visions. Fortunately, this one appeared to be a good future. Sam couldn’t even get a word out of his mouth. His client was leading him by the hand back through the curtain and to the table sans ashtray. She rambled on about how difficult life had been for her without Sam to guide her through the problems and issues. She sat him down and took her seat all the while holding on to his hand. Finally she took a breath and looked at her seer. “Sam. I am so worried that I am not doing any good for people. I try really hard to help people, but I just don’t know if what I am doing is right. Tell me Sam, should I continue?”
Sam could see exactly what she wanted to know. He thought about stringing her along for a bit. He then argues internally about what to do. Part of him wanted to make up some stories; the other part argued that if he had a gift why not just tell her and get on with life. He then thought that with this new ability he could see even more people a day. He decided. “Ms. Norwood, you are doing the right thing. I see you, very soon, being at a dinner where everyone is talking about the good work you do. You are to be honored with a big award. Keep on your path.”
“Oh Sam. Thank you. I so needed to see you today. Something told me to come here and that you would be waiting for me. Thank you. Thank you.” She slipped out some cash from her wallet and slid it under the ashtray.
Over the next few days, life started to get back to normal. Well as normal as possible. Sam struggled with the new gift. He never hesitated to give the good news. He really like telling a person to play their normal numbers on the lottery this coming week. He struggled with the bad and sad. Clients kept pressing him for more and more details. It was definitely a learning process. He had clients leaving in tears. He had wanted to stop, but they insisted. He looked for ways to stop the bad from happening. He told one client that her husband should not take his son to the car race this weekend. She became angry. She could not deny her son his love of cars.
Within a few weeks whispers started spreading around the neighborhood. Ms. Norwood won her award and actually mentioned Sam in her acceptance speech. She told all in earshot that he saw this night – he predicted it. The woman with the lucky numbers won $250,000. They told all that he was the real deal.
Others weren’t so happy when his predictions came true. Break-ups happened, jobs were lost. The woman with the car loving son came in and spit on Sam. “How could you do that?” She screamed so loud that people passing by on the sidewalk stopped. “You are evil!” She slapped him. The contact was enough. He saw a boy run over by a car. It was not the same boy he had seen before. “My nephew is dead because of you,” the tears were streaming down her face. She sat opposite him hands on the table. Sam held her hands to comfort her. He could see the whole string of events.
She had gone home that night. Her husband arrived from work with news that he had to go out of town. She looked at her husband and let out a sigh of relief. She told him about the warning she had received. The husband, like most non-believers, scoffed at it and told her she should stop going to him. She laughed along with him. The husband, seeing that his wife was joining him in not believing in fortune tellers, asked why not offer the tickets to her brother and nephew. Of course, they took her up on front row seats. The vision jumped to the night of the race. A car crashed and a tire flew off and over the fence. It all happened so fast that the brother could not do anything to stop the tragedy unfold.
“You should have told me,” her sobbing settled down enough for her to speak. “You should have told me everything.”
“I didn’t know how to do it,” Sam responded. This gift was no longer something he enjoyed. Yet, the lines to see him now stretched around the block. He continued to hold her hands. That is when the next gift appeared. He noticed the lines in her palm started to stand out in different shapes. He could see words and information in her palms. He let go of her hands, but still the lines and pictures continues. Sam no longer needed to touch a person. He could read their palms.
He stared at her palms and saw struggle and pain. He could see that her brother would take a long time to forgive her for sending him and his son to the races. Word would get back to him that she had been warned not to send her son, but she sent her nephew in his place. He would hold this against her for years. He did see that after a time, the two would start to regrow their relationship, but it would never be what it was before the race.
As the days moved forward, both of the “gifts” continued to grow and strengthen. The news even came out to do an interview. Neighbors started complaining about all of the noise from those in line and the fact that they were blocking the sidewalks. Sam hired off duty officers to control the crowds. Many worked at a discounted rate if he promised to tell their futures.
Through it all, Sam fought to not give out to much of the bad visions. However, people knowing that he truly could see into the future pressed him until he told them everything. He hated those sessions. A man in his fifties sat down opposite him. He laid his hands on the table. Same didn’t need to look at his palms or touch him to know that this man had been suffering some hard times. The man pushed his hands forward. Sam finally took him by the wrists and looked into his palms.
Sam instantly let go almost throwing the man’s arms backwards. He saw darkness. He saw the man walk to an edge of something and look down and then – darkness. The vision jumped back in time slightly. He saw the man leaving the session and going back to his apartment to find an eviction notice on his door. The man had been out of work for a year and could not make the rent payments. He no longer had a family. His wife had left him due to his drinking, and his children would not speak to him due to the pain that he had caused their mother. The eviction notice was the final straw of many. Sam jumped back to the future and saw the man falling.
“You need to know that life is darkness just before the dawn,” Sam tried to figure out how to stop what he saw.
“Don’t give me no bullshit,” the man growled. “What did you see?”
“Okay,” Sam took a breath. “You are going to see some more hard times. Things will appear that there is no answer. However, everything is telling me that if you hold out, all will get better.”
“Aw screw this,” the man stood. “I thought you were going to be the true deal and tell me what to do.” He stormed out of the room.
“Wait,” Sam started after him. The man turned arm raised, Sam instantly jumped back to the day he was attacked. He stopped and allowed the man to leave. He wanted to call the police, but he did not know where the man lived. He knew he had seen him somewhere but could not put it together. All he kept seeing was the man falling.
At 8 o’clock, the last person had risen and left. The vision was that of a new born child – a healthy, happy child who would grow to be a successful man. Sam followed the mom to be out and shut and locked the door. He walked back through the curtains and sat at the table. The earlier vision kept haunting him. He sat with his face cupped in his hands. He felt the sweat. He dreaded turning on the news tomorrow. His hands slowly moved down his face and rested on the table.
Before he could think and stop himself, Sam did what he had been avoiding for a while. He looked at his palms. He became startled when he started seeing in his own hands what he had seen in others. He clamped his hands together. Scared. He sat still for five minutes. Finally, he decided that if he was going to tell others, then he better be able to handle his own future. He opened his hands.
Sam looked at his palms. He could see his past life. He saw the attack and all the events prior to it. He looked at his life line and for information about the future. He saw nothing. Sam turned his hands to see if a different angle would help. Nothing. This was impossible since he still was alive. He started to analyze this. Sam finally realized that since he was the one with the gift, that the gift could not be used on one’s self. He took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. He chuckled at the thought of it actually working on his own hands. Had that been the case, he would be too busy looking at his own hands to help anyone.
His stomach growled bringing him back to reality. Sam stood up and went to the front door. He unlocked it went out and secured the office. Sam walked the short block back to his apartment building. He fumbled with his keys and dropped them. As he picked them up, the face of the man from earlier popped into his head. The man lived upstairs in this building. He had seen him once or twice when visiting with his friend on the top floor. Now Sam, tried to quickly get the key into the door hoping to get to the man’s apartment. He kept missing the slot for the key. Finally, he felt it slip into place. As he started to turn the key, Sam heard a noise from above. He looked up to see something, no someone, falling from the roof directly at him. The world then went black. Sam’s last thought was that he had told his own fortune.