I never expected to meet someone like her on a train journey
Its a grey, drizzly afternoon as the service from London Kings Cross to Edinburgh rolls along. Im in a firstclass compartment, halfasleep, when a welldressed young woman settles opposite me. Shes a brunette in her early thirties, her hair cut stylishly, her figure curvy in a way that makes a woman like me feel a little jealous. She smiles, chats, and everything about her seems pleasantexcept her eyes.
Theres nothing remarkable about the eyes themselves; theyre simply hidden behind dark sunglasses. I try not to think too much about it. After all, its a gloomy day, the clouds hanging low over the countryside, and a pair of almost black lenses is a common sight. Perhaps shes trying to hide puffiness or a bruisewho knows?
I start looking for an excuse to justify why anyone would wear such shades on a train, but my curiosity keeps nudging me. I know only that her name is Megan and that she works somewhere in the service industry. Asking a nearstranger why shes wearing sunglasses in a tunnel feels awkward. What if she has an eye condition?
So I keep quiet, humming along with the idle small talk that strangers usually exchange on a carriage. Then, with a sudden change of tone, Megan leans forward and says:
Emily, how about I give you a reading? Im quite good at it. My greatgrandmother was a professional fortunetellergenuine, not one of those charlatans you see on the High Street. Wouldnt you like to know a glimpse of your future? Its rather fun, isnt it?
I shrug, halfamused, halfuneasy. No, thanks. Im not into cards or any of that stuff, I reply.
Then you have nothing to fear, she says, her voice oddly calm.
I try to sound confident, Im just not interested My words come out a little too firm, and I notice a tremor in the corner of her mouth.
Its your choice. No one can force you, she answers, and a strange tickle of irritation brushes my mind, as if I could scratch an itch inside my head. Then, almost on impulse, I say, Well, why not? Lets try it, even though Im thinking the opposite. I open my mouth to protest, but instead I smile politely at the stranger.
Megan nods, pulls a velvet pouch from her handbag, and places a deck of cards on the small table between us. She removes her sunglasses, revealing two massive dark lenses that completely obscure her eyes. My heart leaps.
How are you going to read the cards? You cant see a thing, I whisper, halflaughing.
Dont worry, Emily, I feel the cards. I know each one by feel, she replies, slipping the glasses back on, the shadows behind them looking almost frightening.
I shrug helplessly, forgetting that she cant see my gestures. Megan spreads the cards in a circle, following the usual ritual, and says, Turn over the one nearest to you; it will show the past.
My hands tremble as I draw a card. Its a blank white sheet, utterly empty. She frowns.
Strange. A blank means you werent present in the past. How could that be? she asks.
What kind of deck is this? Normal cards never look like that, I say, trying to sound sure, though a chill runs down my spine. Are you sure youre not playing a trick?
Alright, lets try again. Pick any card you like, she suggests.
All I want now is to finish my bag, hop off at the next stop, and never hear her voice again. Yet, obeying her, I take another card, and its blank again. My suspicion grows.
Maybe we should stop here, I say, irritated. All your cards seem the same. This is nonsense.
Megans tone shifts. I assure you, Emily, the cards are genuine. The images are etched with a fine needle; I can feel them. Right now the surface feels smooth, just as Im saying.
I huff, take two cards at once, and run my fingers over themplain, smooth, ivorycoloured paper. I toss them back at her.
Enough, I say, trying not to sound angry. Whats the point of all this?
She looks taken aback, her cheeks pale. Honestly, I thought it would be a little entertainment for the journey. One more try, for the future?
I mimic a smile, still annoyed, and draw the next card. When I flip it over, its another blank page. I cant help but laugh bitterly, My future is as blank as this card. What am I supposed to do with that?
Megans face turns an even paler, as if a cold has settled over her. Does that mean Ill die soon? she asks, voice trembling.
I stare at her, but I dont retort. Instead I grab my coat and bag, glance out the window, and mutter, Who knows? Everything ends sometime. Goodbye. I stride out of the compartment without looking back, muttering under my breath, What a waste of timesomeones idea of a experiment!
I step into the carriage vestibule, pull a packet of cigarettes from my pocket, and light one. A man nearby, halfasleep, offers his lighter with a weary smile. Thanks, I say, exhaling a thin ring of smoke. The train doors hiss open, and I slip onto the platform at a small, unfamiliar town.
A passerby, eyes wide with nerves, watches me leave. Its a shame, I think, to let a strangers oddities ruin a simple journey.
As the train pulls away, I realize that curiosity can be a doubleedged sword. It may lead you into strange encounters, but it also teaches you that not every mystery needs to be solved, and that keeping your own peace is often more valuable than chasing every peculiar sign.
And that, perhaps, is the best kind of foresight anyone can have.
