I noticed the door out of the corner of my eye, I wish in my heart of hearts I never did. It was small, that’s what I found odd. A lazy sign described what was to be found within.
Intrigued, I opened the door. The smell of incense overpowered my senses as I ascended the stairs to the first floor.
The room was decorated with Indian carpets, fake golden trims and trinkets that hippies would die for. An old man sat cross-legged facing away from
me, smoking from a long clay pipe.
“Sit,” the man said.
I sat down on the velour beanbag.
“Are you willing to sacrifice something important to you for unimaginable things?” he asked.
I thought about this for barely seconds before responding, “Yes.”
When I answered the door to the Porsche representative, I was shocked. This car was for me they said, I’d won it, they said. It was just what I needed the day after my dog died.
When I visited my mother in hospital, I felt sick as I wished for her to die quicker. I don’t think I listened to a word she said. But the meagre inheritance that arrived in the following weeks shocked me.
Now I constantly watch my daughter, waiting for something to happen. I hope it will be worth it. She’s all I have left to offer.