"Hey, can I get a reading," she asks on the phone.
"No," I say, "You told me that’s not a part of your world anymore."
"Just one card," she says, needing something besides fortune-telling.
"Fine," I say. I draw one card for her on my bedspread where I think about her every night.
"Death," I say, "Transition. Keep yourself healthy. Get ready for change."
"Thanks," she says, "I’m moving. Didn’t know how else to tell you."
by Eric Kenron of Chicago
