The email message said, “Can you really tell my fortune, Daniel?”

Fortune telling is looking at things, into things, behind things, inside things, under things, beyond things, and things that make things what they are, make them work, make them look like what they are and what they aren’t. Everything is a perception. Einstein believed that, through elegant mathematics, he could look into the mind of God, who he perceived as a clockmaker. I look at his clock. I see change and movement. Nothing and nobody remains the same. None of us wish to be ordinary, everything is about motion.

“I can tell your fortune, Rebecca, but not your future,” I typed back.

“What’s the difference?”

“Your fortune is now, the future is uncertain, it may never exist. Everything we know, understand, perceive, the four fundamental states of matter, all could vanish, unravel in an instant. And everything that was, or ever would or could be, would never be again.”

“Then tell my fortune. Tell me who I am now.”

“You’re a petite brown haired middle aged woman with brown eyes. You’re attractive, and you know it.”

“How did you do that?”

“Do you believe I can tell your fortune?”

“You just described me. I want to know more.”

“You are married, but had at least one affair. You have three children and a career, but it’s not what you want to be doing. Your home is beautiful, but you think about a different lifestyle. I see you in a sports car but that’s not what you drive. You recently lost someone close to you.”

“That’s amazing. Almost everything is spot on.”

“What did I miss?”

“I only have two children.”

“Did you ever miscarry?”

Her silence was my answer. “I don’t have a sports car.”

“I didn’t say you owned one. I said I saw you in one.”

“I used to have a red Mustang convertible.”

“Perhaps that was it.”

“I want to know how you did this.”

“Have lunch with me. I’ll teach you how to do a cold read.”

“Can you teach me to see my future?”

I sat for a long moment and stared at my keyboard. I started to type: “I am your future.”

But didn’t.

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