Roger Swan was not interested in astrology. He used to read his horoscope lie everybody else. He would believe it if it was good and not believe it if it said anything bad. So it came as a bit surprise to him to find himself inside a fortuneteller´s tent. It was a cheap and nasty fairground and it was his wife Susan who had persuaded him pay £5 for ten minutes with Madame Zeroni. There was a strange atmosphere inside the tent. Incense sticks were burning in the corner. On the table, a large ball reflected the light from dim electric bulb above them. Madam Zeroni herself was dressed in black, with a veil pulled over her face.
“Sit dawn please, Mr Swan,” said the old lady. “I have been waiting for you.”
On hearing his name, Roger looked at Madame Zeroni but she was already gazing into the glass ball. Roger sat in the old wooden chair opposite the old lady, still wondering how she knew his name. Madame Zeroni gazed in to the ball and began to hum, at first quietly, but then louder and louder, then she start to talking in a foreign language. What was this stupid woman doing? She was making him nervous. Suddenly Madame Zeroni looked up at Roger. “Mr Swan,” she began, “I have some information for you. I know where you are going to die. I don´t know when, or how, but I know where. Please think very carefully. Would you like me to give you this information?”
Roger was confused. Could Madame …. Really have such information? Surely she was nothing more than a silly old women who had bought a tent, a big class ball and some incense sticks, take just a stupid name and made money frightening visitors in cheap and nasty fairground.
“How do I know you know?” asked Roger.
“L know many things about you, Mr Swan,” said Madame Zeroni.
“Your name is Roger Swan, you are fifty-seven years old, you work as a salesman in Manchester. You had two children, one of them died when she was young. Your health is bad, your heart is weak. Your wife doesn´t love you...