A collection of very short

Fortune

"With this line, I can foresee a long life," the old fortune-teller said. She was deeply concentrated, with her fingers tracing the lines of Archid's right hand. Her eyes fixing obsessively the lines she was tracing.

He let out a long sigh of relief. Both hands were placed in the fortune teller's. Besides their hands were four large denomination bills, several weeks worth of salary for Archid. She took some more time tracing the lines on his left hand this time. She seemed confused by what she was seeing.

"This does not mean that your life will be a peaceful one," she continued. Suddenly, she pushed her head back theatrically. Her eyes closed. She scraped her throat and her whole body started shaking. "I see lots of ups and more downs." She whispered. "I see some almost dead ends. I see a woman, or is it a man. They are approaching me. It's a woman. She is carrying three melons. But one dropped" With no warning, her head dropped, her eyes blinked open. She shot him a short intense look. "You will have children. But one will not make it, it's unclear. It's blurry. I see tragedy in its life. Quick."

As she spoke, Archid's eyes closed. His arms slowly lifted and he started shaking himself. "What is happening?" He asked her, frightened. His eyes re-opened, locking onto hers, unable to look away. He couldn't blink. "Help me," he pleaded, unable to control his body. "Please, what are you doing to me?"

Slowly, Archid stood up from the small chair, pushing back the round wood-carved table that was in front of him. His head shot up, possessed.

"Someone is speaking to me," he said as he tried to regain control of his body. The woman stood back, her face turning white. "What have you done to me?" Archid let out again in despair. "Please make it stop, you can have all my money." His breath was uneven. Large sweat drops appeared on his forehead. Then his tone changed, menacing. "She is telling me that you are in grave danger. She said it should not have been done that way." Standing up with all his might, Archid's head dropped down, his eyes opened locking back onto the old woman frightened gaze. "PUNISHMENT!" He roared. She jumped, her hands trembling. He maintained his stare, unable to blink.

The old woman crawled back, retreating deep in the corner of her tent, shaking with fright. She crouched by a small wooden crate, her hands in front of her face. "Tell her it was not me," she begged. "Please, it was a mistake. Please." She was paler than a sheet, her wrinkles exaggerated on her cheeks and forehead. "It was not meant to happen," she shrieked as her voice crackled and died down. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she was not crying. Her eyes darted left and right, unable to find an exit. She saw no path out. There was no way out. She was trapped.

In a split second Archid regained his composure. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He took a step forward, scaring the fortune teller further back into the tent fold. He grabbed the money that was on the table and walked out.

"Classic!" he laughed as he emerged onto Hősök tere. "Have fun," he told a short woman who was waiting in the queue for her turn.