The train rattled through the misty English countryside, the compartment dimly lit by the flickering amber of the overhead lamps. I had been seated opposite a strikingly welldressed woman for more than two hours, and the memory of her face stayed with me like a halfremembered dream.
She was a brunette in her early thirties, her hair a sleek bob that could have been lifted straight from a fashion spread. Her figure, slender and enviable, seemed almost a parody to someone like me, whose curves were more generous than the models on the catalogue covers. She smiled easily, chatted away, and yet there was something oddly unsettling about her eyes or rather, the lack of them.
The grey, overcast day pressed against the windows, turning the sky a dull pewter. Despite the drizzle, she wore a pair of almost black sunglasses, the lenses as opaque as a cellar door. I tried to convince myself there was nothing odd about that; perhaps she was hiding dark circles, or a bruise, or just a habit. I searched for any justification, but curiosity gnawed at me like a mouse in the walls.
All I knew about her was that she called herself Mabel and worked somewhere in the service industry. Asking a stranger, Why on earth are you wearing glasses indoors? felt as impolite as shouting at a traffic light. Could it be an eye condition? I kept my mouth shut and fell into the harmless smalltalk that strangers share on a moving train.
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
Agnes, would you let me read your future? Im rather good at it. My greatgrandmother was a genuine fortuneteller, not one of those charlatans you see on the high street. Dont you want to know what lies ahead? It could be fun.
I shrugged, my shoulders trembling with an instinctive dread. No, thank you. I dont believe in cards, nor in any of that nonsense.
But then you have nothing to fear, she replied, her tone a mix of teasing and reassurance.
Im not scared, I just dont want to, I said, forcing confidence into my voice, noticing the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth.
Its your choice. No one can force you, she said, a strange itch crawling up my neck as if I could scratch it from the inside.
Then, unexpectedly, she continued, Well, why not give it a go? The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I felt a knot tighten in my throat. I opened my mouth to protest, but instead offered a polite smile.
Mabel nodded, withdrew a velvet pouch from her bag, and laid a deck of cards on the small table between us. She removed her sunglasses, and the sudden exposure of the dark lenses that hid her eyes made my heart skip a beat.
How can you read the cards if you cant see? I whispered, panic seeping into my voice.
Dont worry, Agnes. I feel the cards, I know each of them by heart. I dont have many pastimes, so lets begin, she said, slipping the glasses back on as if the sight of my eyes might shatter her composure.
I shrugged helplessly, forgetting that she could not see my movements. Mabel spread the cards in a circle, observing the ritual with the solemnity of a priest. Turn over the one closest to you; it will show the past, she instructed.
My hands shook as I reached for the nearest card. When I lifted it, the paper was utterly blank, devoid of any ink or symbol. Mabels brow furrowed.
Strange, she murmured. A blank page means you were never there in the past. How could that be?
What kind of deck is this? Normal cards never look like that, I tried to speak firmly, but a chill ran down my spine. Are you are you mad?
Lets try again, she suggested, her tone softening. Pick any card you like.
All I wanted was to gather my belongings and disappear at the next stop, to escape the cramped compartment and the unsettling presence that made my skin crawl. Yet, bound by a strange, invisible thread, I drew another card and turned it. It was the same pristine white.
My suspicion grew. Maybe we should stop here. It looks like all your cards are the same. This is a foolish trick, and I dont like it, I said, my voice edged with anger.
Mabels face paled, her composure cracking. I assure you, the cards are ordinary; the designs are etched with a fine needle that I can feel with my fingers. Right now theyre just smooth sheets. Believe me, Im shocked too. Try again, something about the present might show up.
I huffed, inhaled sharply, and grabbed two cards at once, feeling them with my fingertips. As I expected, they were untouched, immaculate sheets of glossy paper. I flung them back at her.
Enough of this charade. Tell me honestlywhy did you start this? she asked, her voice trembling.
She seemed bewildered, her cheeks turning an eerie shade of pallor.
Honestly, I had no intention beyond a little amusement on the journey, she whispered. Lets try one last timefor the future.
I smirked spitefully, Fine, lets try. I drew another card, flipped it over, and, remembering she couldnt see, almost shouted, The future is as blank as the card! What now?
Mabels complexion drained completely, her skin spotted with a faint, nervous rash.
Does that mean Im going to die soon? she asked, voice cracking.
I stared at her, eyes wide, but said nothing. I gathered my coat and bag, stared out the window, and exhaled a irritated sigh.
Where am I supposed to know? Everyone meets their end someday. Im getting off at the next station; I have urgent matters, I muttered, stepping out of the compartment without looking back. A bitter thought whirled in my mind: Bloody hell, shes ruined my mood! Using people for her little experiments!
Furious, I pushed through the carriage door into the platforms cold air, snatched a cigarette from a pack, and flicked it open. The trains carriage door slammed shut behind me as I walked toward the waiting concourse. I spotted a man in a weathered coat, his pipe clenched between his teeth, and asked, Got a light?
He nodded, Sure thing, and handed me a lighter. He stared at me a moment, his face a mask of tired resignation, before he slumped onto the filthy floor, his shoulders collapsing as if the weight of the world had pressed him down. I bent down, took the lighter, lit my cigarette, and inhaled a deep, smoky cloud that seemed to lift a little of the heaviness from my chest.
The doors opened, and I stepped onto the platform of a small, unfamiliar town. A lone figure in a rainslick coat glanced my way, his eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
Poor soul, seeing a skull would be a grand delight, wouldnt it? I said, halflaughing at my own gloom. Sorry, love, didnt mean to frighten you. Your time isnt up yet, and Im just on holidaylost control for a moment. Even a seer cant outrun death, even if shes blind to it. You cant hide from people like that.
I muttered under my breath, Enjoy your holiday, Agnes, as I slipped away, disappearing into the drizzlesoaked streets, the echo of the trains whistle fading behind me.
