Dick Edwards slid the ten pound note across the table to the gypsy fortune teller.
“I'm looking for a path to follow.” He said. “For a meaning in my life, for my destiny.”
The gypsy stared long and hard into her crystal ball, her eyes narrowed, her face a mask of mystic concentration.
Eventually she raised her head.
“On the horizon.” She whispered. “You will find your destiny on the horizon.”
“But the horizon is all around, how will I know which direction to travel?”
“You will know, fate will guide you, whichever direction you choose will be the direction your destiny lies.”
Dick thanked the gypsy and walked out of the shadowy booth and into bright summer sunshine.
He turned right and walked along the seaside promenade, threading his way through the swarms of holiday-makers, past the rows of burger stands, amusement arcades and tourist-tack shops.
Eventually he left the town behind and approached the surrounding green foothills. Looking up he could make out the tall spire of a church silhouetted against the skyline.
“There!” He whispered to himself. “There on the horizon, there is my destiny.”
Dick focused his attention on the church spire and began walking again, at a brisk pace, he was eager to meet his destiny, to follow his path, to give a meaning to his life.
Several hours later he stood before the tall-spired church, and for the first time, instead of focusing on the building itself, he looked past it... at another horizon. There on the new horizon stood a sprawling white farmhouse.
“No, my destiny does not lie in this church, but there, there on the horizon, there in that farmhouse.”
A few hours later found Dick standing beside the white farmhouse, and staring off at yet another horizon several more miles away.
“It seems my destiny doesn't lie in this farmhouse either.” He mused. “But over there, amongst those electricity pylons.”
Dick set off towards the new horizon then stopped suddenly in his tracks.
His inner ear was deafened by a resounding metallic “Clang”... The sound of the penny dropping.
The truth and logic finally came to him like a sledge-hammer blow.
Dick turned on his heel and set off back in the direction of the seaside town. His cheeks burning a lovely bright shade of red.
With every step he took he debated with himself whether to threaten the gypsy with a good thumping and demand his money back, or to put the whole thing down to experience and take it as a lesson learnt.
Somehow, he didn't think either option would alleviate just how utterly foolish and stupid he felt right at this moment.
©2012 Stephen. J. Green.