Predicting the future is easy, but telling fortunes is an art. Madame Quark stands outside her kiosk with a cigarette, thinking about this. If you pay attention, it’s easy to see what the future holds. Like that tourist family with their bags of chips, about to be dive-bombed by seagulls. She doesn’t bother warning people about their fate nowadays, since she’s learned it rarely helps. The chips scatter on the floor and the family run, as a brawl of birds squawks and fights for the dropped food. Nasty little brutes.

Before she goes back inside, Madame Quark catches the eye of a passing woman. She is young, her make-up messy from tears, and she looks like she’s fleeing from something.

“Do you need a cup of tea?”

The woman stops dead and looks like she’s going to cry or collapse. She has a tense, jittery energy. “Yes, please.”

Inside the kiosk, Madame Quark sets about making the drinks while the girl waits. Madame Quark puts down the mugs, and a silence settles. Not much point asking this stranger about her day. “Would you like me to read your fortune?”

“I don’t have any money.”

“That’s OK.”

Madame Quark begins shuffling. One of the tricks about telling fortunes is knowing to remove Death, the 13^th trump. It doesn’t mean funerals and fruitcake, since it rarely refers to an actual death, but it’s too much for most people. In Madame Quark’s first season, she had someone run from the booth before she could explain. That day, she stopped using the card.

Madame Quark has also removed the Tower, and the Nine and Ten of Swords. Nothing good comes from any of them, particularly that Ten, with its picture of a man lying dead on the ground. One sword would have killed him, but ten are buried in his back. Nasty little card. Nobody has ever noticed that she only has 74 cards, and she keeps a full deck in a drawer for when she actually needs it.

The reading fills the time. Madame Quark has learned that it’s easiest to read people’s future from their past, since the two are rarely all that different; telling fortunes is about a story. The cards in this spread are mostly Coins. Friendly cards, but the sort of friends who’d include you in a round, but not wait with you in a hospital. Madame Quark would never rely on the Coins, but they’re kind and want to comfort this girl. They make the future look promising: if you work hard then good things will happen.

The girl finishes her tea as the last card is explained. Calmer now, she thanks Madame Quark for looking after her. At the door she hesitates, which Madame Quark knows means that the woman does have money on her and is wondering whether to offer some. Then she’s gone.

It’s a slow day, with few likely customers. Madame Quark takes the other deck, the complete one, and settles down to read the girl’s actual fortune.

Background

This is one of my South Downs Way stories. It was published in my 5th zine in the series, A Foolish Journey. I’ve just found a load of copies I mislaid and have put it back on ebay. I can’t believe it’s almost 3 years since that was published.

I just booked a hike on the South Downs Way for this summer, so I suspect more stories are coming soon.

I’m still in a slump, my head dull and thick most evenings. But I am working on new things, focusing on the fun weird playful stuff. It turns out I really like writing stories on plain A3 sheets of paper.