By Laura Yates
GYPSY Rose could see things. Mostly, the hope in people’s eyes who came seeking solace.
Gypsy Rose traced lines in palms and could see that their owners could be told – anything.
Gypsy Rose did not foresee the return of a client, who after hearing Gypsy Rose’s reading to a subsequent visitor, was perturbed that it was identical to theirs.
Gypsy Rose’s last thought was to curse herself for not using the peephole. If she had, she’d have seen the tears.
And the knife.
And with that, Gypsy Rose passed into the world that she had so often professed to see.
© Laura Yates 2016