The office is in a converted Victorian. The walls are painted a deep
blue, the windows framed in white. A folding screen sits in one corner.
In the middle of the carpet are two comfy chairs, separated by a table.
One wall is covered in lush, green plants that grow from cloth pockets
heavy with soil. The day’s last bright rays of sunshine bathe the room.
Like most therapists’ offices, this one treads that fine line between
cozy and professional.
Except, this is not a therapist’s office.
It’s a psychic’s office, and I’m about to have my fortune told for the
first time ever.
You might say that I’m a “hopeful skeptic.” I
have a Google alert set for “Loch Ness Monster” but I get that she
probably isn’t there. (If you are reading this Nessie, I am sorry.)
Source: Pacific Standard
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