Letting the door slam shut by Stella Pierides

Even though the fairground sirens were deafening, the flashing lights
of the dodgems and carousel delighted the eye and excited the senses.
Katerina stood mesmerized, her eyes sparkling. It was then that a
woman whispered to her,

“Your fate is written on the palm of your hand. Show me your lifeline.”

Instinctively, Katerina opened her hand, only to withdraw it, embarrassed.

“Thank you,” she said, and walked on joining the crowds. She didn’t
believe in fortune-telling, but something about this woman left her
puzzled. She rubbed her hand on her skirt and slipped it inside her
pocket.

Katerina put the incident out of her mind – until next morning, when
she chanced upon the woman as she entered her place of work. Pushing
past her, she felt a spark of static electricity from their jackets.
She didn’t want her to see that she had injured her palm with a knife,
trying to cut open a pomegranate.

The woman followed her in.

“What I said about your lifeline – I meant, I thought I saw…”

Katerina held out her hand: a deep wound still oozing blood. The woman cringed.

“I should have told you straight, but I was trying to break the ice
talking of palmistry; I saw something in your eyes I thought you
should know… ” she trailed off.

Letting the elevator door slam shut, Katerina faintly heard her saying,

“… the unequal dilation of your pupils… a sign of a neurological
problem requiring urgent attention…”

.

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6 Comments

Filed under Stella Pierides

6 responses to “Letting the door slam shut by Stella Pierides

  1. Yikes! I was a little suspicious of the way the lights mesmerised her. Wow.

  2. Very nice turn at the end.

  3. Thank you ganymeder, suasan, EKSwitaj for your good words!

    I tried to recreate in the reader Katerina’s dismissive and rush attitude towards “palmistry” and the respectful reaction towards science – isn’it it a sort of prejudice we have towards what we consider “lower,” less scientific/older/folk disciplines?

  4. This really resonated. If only health care providers would look at us in the eyes — perhaps they’d be better at their craft? (and I use that word purposively — I AM a health care provider). Powerful stuff. Peace…

  5. Pingback: Week #29 – The palm of your hand | 52|250 A Year of Flash

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