The Modern Fortune Teller
A man walked into a shop. This was a silly thing to do, as it was a rather large shop but in his defence it hadn’t been there yesterday.
The shop was covered in bright neon signs that proclaimed it to know the past, present, and future. This was unusual. Not that Stephen had much experience with shops which appeared out of thin air, but he had assumed that such shops would be old and rotting, composed of many strange Victorian shapes and smelling strongly of incense or maybe mould. He did not expect it to have glass automatic doors covered in worn stickers, but upon closer inspection these old and faded stickers had yesterday’s headlines and the exchange rates for tomorrow which was suitably strange and bizarre.
A notice proclaimed in Comic Sans that, for the price of one sacrifice, a customer would be allowed to ask three questions and the answer to these three questions would be the truth.
So he went into the shop, figuring that he might be able to find out some information on his latest case. (It was the most confusing and confounding case of his career and he was loving every second of the endless trials. He was planning on spending the fees on a hair transplant because he was thinning at a rate that worried him somewhat. )
He would know if the information was true or not, because he already knew the currency exchange…
