you seem kind of differentpublished: 2011-11-05
She always consults her pendulum. The stone is a roze quartz. She knows it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, of course she does. And so it’s best not to ask questions that are important. Will she have a child? No, it says. It swings left to right.
Ten years later, she is still single. Her 45th birthday came as a relief. At least that issue was now settled: no children.
She was pregnant once. She aborted the child. She was sure it would otherwise die during labor.
Another time, she thought she might be having a heart-attack. Instead of calling the doctor she asked the pendulum. Is this a heart-attack?
She puked her brains out that night. That burning sensation between her ribs? It must have been her gut.
Again, she has a question for the pendulum. She feels she has finally met her match. He loves her, she loves him. She has never been happier. She doesn’t want to lose him. And so she asks the pendulum whether she will. She can’t help herself.
Yes, it says. She cries because she knows it is true.
In bed that night she tries to calm herself. “I asked ‘will I lose him’. You can lose someone in various ways can’t you? He could die, I mean we all die. If I were to ask the pendulum if I was going to die, of course it would say yes.” It could well take over thirty years before she loses him.
When she next sees her new love she asks him, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says, “why do you ask?”
“Just,” she says.
A few minutes later she asks, “are you sure everything’s all right?”
“Dunno, you seem kind of,” she looks for the word, “different.”