Elsie swirled the teacup around in her crumpled, conical hands; working the tea-leaves into a symbol. She had provided readings for many people over many years; it had given them an insight into their future.
‘What can you see, Elsie?’ The young woman asked.
‘My dear, I saw my own face merged with a skull. The skull is a symbol of demise. I am going to die very soon.’
The woman trembled at Elsie’s words. As she became pinned to her chair with fear, she witnessed Elsie’s face contort; her eyes bulge and her head slither slowly to the table.
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