Pantry Prose: A Visit From The Fortune Teller by Carol Forrester

Fool

“I can explain everything,” Susan promised. “But first, I think we should get out of here.”

Pinned against the wall by her body, Jeremy nodded. In all honesty he was more concerned with the Ford Mondeo currently sitting in the middle of his living room than what was being said to him. Had it really just come crashing through his patio window? Had some random woman really just hurled herself at him to save his life?

“We really, really need to go,” Susan insisted, extricating herself from his lanky frame and grabbing hold of  his hands. She tugged him forward, stumbling as his torso came away from the wall but the rest of him didn’t.

“Oomph!”

She dropped his hands and grabbed his shoulders.

“Okay, okay,” she said, strain showing in her voice now. “Let’s stand up properly shall we?”

Jeremy nodded again, still staring at the car sitting where his coffee table should be.

“It was an antique,” he mumbled, managing to move his feet this time when Susan pulled him forward.

“I’m sure it was lovely,” she soothed, patting his shoulder distractedly while she scanned the ceiling above them. “Oops. Wrong way!”

Jeremy felt the air leave his lungs as he landed, Susan crunching down beside him on the glass a second later.

“What ar-” he was cut off as the ceiling gave a creak, and then a groan, before deciding to give up altogether and simply plummet onto the spot where they’d been standing the moment before.

“Oh,” he said. “You just saved my life.”

“Meh,” Susan shrugged. “Only twice. Trust me, today you’re going to require a lot more than twice.”

Jeremy’s features crumpled into a frown.

“What do you mean?” he asked, finding himself quickly being pulled to his feet and steered back towards his own front door.

“I quite like the philosophy of crossing that bridge when we get to it,” Susan said, gripping him by the elbow now and hurrying him forward. “Granted it does help when one has some for-warning of what those bridges might be.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows squirmed.

“What bridges?” he asked. “Where am I going? Who are you?”

“No one, no one,” said Susan, waving away the question with one hand. “Well not really a no one per say I suppose, I’m someone, but not someone you really need to know. Does that make any sense?”

“No,” said Jeremy. “None at all.”

“I didn’t think so,” Susan sighed. They’d reached the door and she was opening it, shooing Jeremy out of his own house.

“Hey! I think I deserve some answers here!”

Susan hummed at him and pulled the door shut behind them.

“I’ll explain everything. I did promise,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, so you can start with what you were doing in my house!”

“Saving you,” she said.

“But why?” Jeremy demanded.

Susan shrugged.

“I was bored I guess.”

“Bored?” repeated Jeremy.

“Yeah,” said Susan. “Bored.”

Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

2 thoughts on “Pantry Prose: A Visit From The Fortune Teller by Carol Forrester

  1. Pingback: Guest post-Carol Forrester | SONG OF THE FORLORN

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