OnigiriDragon

Gypsies and psychics and Tarot readers have a hundred generations of practice at their art. And practice is all it is. Cold reading, wishful thinking, deductive reasoning. Throw out some general statement that could apply to any person on this Earth—
          
          
          “I’m sensing that something is troubling you.”
          
          
          “You’re amazing! Yes, it’s my husband . . .”
          
          
          —and the mark tells you the rest. But the fake Jamaican had no way of knowing what he knew. No possible way. I watched my shoes mash through the weeds. This man had just ruptured the thin fabric of all I believed to be—
          
          
          I walked right into a girl, broadsided her, felled her like a tree. I saw, to my horror, that it was Jennifer Lopez.

OnigiriDragon

this message may be offensive 
George stood up onto his tiptoes, face turned upwards into Dream's with a dazed look in his eyes. They were both heavy breathed and their mouths hung open slightly. "Dream," he said. "Fucking kiss me." His lover nodded slightly, a lowered his face onto George's waiting one. Then, Dream picked him up and threw George into the fireplace.