The Fortune Teller

She beckoned me to enter her world of mystery. Incense, smoke and mirrors, and untold witchery. I started walking by her, but something pulled me in. And so I dropped my money in her ancient box of tin. She led me through a corridor, into a darkened room. I followed close behind her trail of sweet, but strange perfume. We sat down at a table and she cast her cards aside. Uncovering a crystal ball with dancing flames inside. Her eyes began to darken as she stared into the ball. She fell into a trance, and then the Gypsy told it all. She talked about my sorrows, my failures and my wins. She knew about my deepest fears, and all about my sins. She knew about my lovers, and all about my past. She strung them all together like a movie’s greatest cast. Then suddenly, the Gypsy woke, the fire left her eyes. She walked me back out to the door and we said our goodbyes. Now every time I want to know what will and will not be. I’ll ask the fortune teller, for her crystal ball can see.