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Your character makes a living faking psychic powers. One morning, they wake up with real ones.

Posted in Fantasy on Dec 31, 2021

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✍️ 63 stories

The Old Tattered Sign

Submitted to Contest #127

They were poor. Dirt poor. An old tattered sign stood in the yard advertising Maxine's services, yet hardly anyone stopped by. Most locals knew that Maxine, better known as Maxie, knew absolutely nothing about the future. So, Maxie and her husband, Danny, depended on the occasional drunk or curious traveler to stop by and hand over money for a reading into the future, even though the only future Maxie knew was her own. With each unknowing customer, Maxie knew her future held at least a paid bill or a few groceries.When the morning sun beamed...

44 likes 14 comments 14
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The Curse of the Fortune Teller

Submitted to Contest #127

"Run wherever you may, Arvin. Hide however you wish. You will end up with my kind. I curse you that from this day, your life will serve a purpose only for others, and you will wander here to there without a home." She said, thrusting him out of the hut and slamming the door on his face."Please, try to understand, Sira. Do you think I'll live happily without you?" He pleaded, rushing over to the window. "I am a simple boy from an unimportant family, and you are.., You know what you are, right! This town will never accept our union once they f...

33 likes 15 comments 15
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Hypno the All-Knowing Heretic

Submitted to Contest #127

I wonder if it's actually anyone's ambition to join the circus. I know it wasn't mine; and yet, here I am. I am the premiere psychic at Madame Malraux's Moonlight Circus, a troupe of individuals—or freaks, as we are often affectionately called—who perform in the bayous of New Orleans. We never perform during the day, hence the name "Moonlight Circus." Our audience consists mostly of tourists with too much money, emptying their wallets and clawing their way to the front to get a glimpse of the bizarre. Madame Malraux says people aren't a...

29 likes 10 comments 10
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Esper for Hire

Shortlisted for Contest #127 ⭐️

The outer rims of her irises were a majestic copper, and their metallic veins turned to a bright yellow as they trailed inward before plunging into the black abysses of her pupils. The eyes bewitched Kara, but she had to focus. To do her job today, she needed to take in everything she could from the photograph while she still had time. Sadly, as she navigated away from the eyes, she couldn’t help but become ensnared by the flames that awaited above: fiery red hair that threatened to lash out and burn anyone who dared to touch it without pe...

27 likes 5 comments 5
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Living Off-script

Submitted to Contest #127

Damien had done alright for himself. He toured his psychic show and most appearances sold out early. He had an entourage! How many psychics do this well? Of course, he wasn’t a real psychic. If real psychics exist, they eke a meagre living solving crimes for the police. They didn’t rule the stock market. Or win at the races. And they didn’t fill auditoriums with paying customers vying for attention. Not like Damien. He figured 'real psychics' huddle in basements, fretting over traffic, weather, or pandemics. A palm reader once told him lovi...

21 likes 11 comments 11
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The Charlatan's Conundrum

Submitted to Contest #127

“Prove that I’m a fake,” said the man sitting across from me. We were in a booth at the diner where I frequently had casual meetings like this one.“I don’t need to, I know you’re a fake,” I told him.He dropped his chin in frustration, perhaps even despair. The expression was difficult to read through the layers of fatigue that were present on his face. He also looked as if he hadn’t showered for days which made me glad I was on the other side of the booth.“I know you know I’m a fake, but I need you to prove it. I need you to demonstrate...

20 likes 1 comment 1
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Debunker

Submitted to Contest #127

My name is Jonathan Adams, no relation to our second or sixth presidents; I’m just a simple man with simple aims; I’m what you might label a doubter, a skeptic, a cynic, a debunker, and I’ve spent the last two decades going to extremes to find the truth in order to expose magicians, alien abductees, ghost hunters, monster spotters, and especially so-called psychics. However, there was one fortune-teller in particular that I’ve always wanted to humble; her professional name is Madame Evelyn.She and I are approximately the same age, both aroun...

19 likes 2 comments 2
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Speak Your Mind

Submitted to Contest #127

If there’s anything Dallas Reed thinks he knows, it’s when to keep his mouth shut.…As he creeps out of bed, on the morning of yet another work day, he clutches his head as if he has a headache. But as he sits with it for a moment, he realizes that it isn’t a headache at all.Why does my head feel… loose?He decides to pay little mind to this, and begins to prepare for his day. He tiptoes quietly about the apartment to avoid waking up his loving fiance, Hazel. He smiles tenderly as he leaves a gentle kiss upon her sleeping forehead.Before ...

18 likes 1 comment 1
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Dr. PsychicLove: I didn't sign-up for this shit when I faked it till I made it, or how I learned to stop worrying and love the clueless ticking time-bomb

Submitted to Contest #127

[Note: sharp satire or dark humor; some references to COVID pandemic]As with anything in Life, it all comes down to “great expectations” (not the novel). As Gautama Buddha identified some 2500 years ago, the root-cause of all human problems arises from “expectations”, and its ever-present accoutrement “attachment”. Thus it was with Claire Buoyant, better known through her alter-ego: Dr. PsychicLove. Like the enlightened founder of Buddhism, she too had accounted for the role “expectations” played in her accidentally chosen profession to opti...

18 likes 1 comment 1
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Wink

Submitted to Contest #127

It was late when Julie awoke. The sun was streaming through her window, bright and lazy. She threw off the covers, reaching for her phone in a panic. Her head was ringing. Noon. Why was it so late? She never slept that late. She was due to the recording studio in a couple of hours. She hated it when going to the studio and back took up her entire day; she imagined that was how having your blood drained from you entirely would feel. She hated the way the layers upon layers of clownish make-up and the violent lights felt upon her skin. It was ...

17 likes 7 comments 7
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My Little Eyes

Submitted to Contest #127

[Sensitive content: Contains scenes of death] If I told you it had all been a lie, would you believe me? “The future, she is fickle.” That's how I'll usually start with a new client. It's important for them to know she can change her mind on a whim. Also that she's a she. The “she” is important. It makes it seem like I have a real relationship with her. Then I'll remind them that in this great oneness, this vast, vibrating universe in which all the pieces are connected, no divinity owns our sovereignty. We are both creation and co-creato...

17 likes 4 comments 4
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I've Gotten Good at This

Submitted to Contest #127

December 30, 2021 Something Jack said last week is still really bugging me and it’s not the “we should break up” part of it. It was within the reasoning for that statement. He said he couldn’t get past my career and told me to hit him up if I ever “do something real.” First off, I will not be hitting him up, ever. We knew all along I can do better and he really did not respect that fact. But I digress.  Now usually when people take issue with a career path that includes the term “real,” it’s because people are chasing dreams and not...

17 likes 1 comment 1
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The Cards Don’t Lie

Submitted to Contest #127

Nanci never liked working 9-5, her father, a legendary con-artist in her eyes, picked apart the system so he wouldn’t see a hard’s day work in this lifetime. When Nanci was eighteen, her father passed away and had nothing to show for it. Not a dime to his name, or a property to prop her stuff in. Nanci was working at a convenience store at the time and her coworker, Lin, let her crash at their place until Nanci found a place of her own.  One afternoon, when Nanci was lounging on Lin’s couch, a package arrived for her. Nanci realized i...

17 likes 4 comments 4
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The Orb has spoken

Submitted to Contest #127

The room was dark. Two human-shaped shadows were dancing on the walls to the song of flickering candles. The glow of the Magical Orb shed some light on the focused and serious face of Lady Magdalena Florea. The smoke machine she installed under the small, round table added to the eerie atmosphere in The Chamber of Mystic Vision, as it was called by the Mystic Lady.  The back wall was decorated with a big black carpet with red and yellow flower motifs, flanked by two paintings of the Eye of Horus and above this triad, reigned an icon o...

16 likes 5 comments 5
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A Goddess Recruitment

Submitted to Contest #127

Jasime laughed as another foolish, dimwitted customer left her wagon. Three women asking if they would find love, six mercenaries seeking answers about honor, and a young blacksmith searching for loopholes in destiny.          Jasime had welcomed each of them into her ominous wagon, sat them in the dark, and told the truth… or her version of it. A twisted guessing game of playing what they wanted to hear- in return for an offering, of course. Jewels or weapons or gloriously delicious-smelling dis...

16 likes 1 comment 1
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