KATACLYSM: A Space-Time Comedy Read Online Free PDF

got married.”
    “Ugh,” says Angelo irritated.  He had figured that he wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of thing now that he was dead.  “How am I supposed to remember?  Can she call back some other time?”
    “Listen, Angelo.  I’ve done this a few times and I don’t think you want to do that,” replies Robert who wonders how he got stuck doing this job yet again.
    “Ok, ok…uh…I don’t know,” says Angelo shaking his leg nervously.  “Uh, she had lots of pairs you know…it was a long time ago…hmmm…ok,” exasperated “let’s take a shot and say…black.  Can I go now?”
    “He thinks they were black,” says Robert uncertainly to the psychic.
    “Black,” says the psychic matter-of-factly to Fiona.
    “It’s him!” cries Fiona.  “Oh sweet Jesus it’s him.”
    Fiona collapses on the floor, hyperventilating with tears in her eyes.  “My Angelo, it’s really you.  It’s really you!  My poor Angelo…”
    Fiona’s sister who has accompanied her takes her by the arm and tells her that she’s had enough for today.
    Back in the afterlife Angelo speaks to Robert. “So?  Anything else for me?”
    “Nope.”
    “OK, thanks for the help Robert.”
    “Sure thing.”
    Madame Sfortunata did not communicate with the dead.  She preferred to make predictions about the future and that was fine with Flower.  Flower didn’t really know why she went to a psychic.  She wasn’t particularly worried about the future and there were no questions that were bothering her.  She was quite a cheerful twenty-six year old who had just moved to Boston from London.  The daughter of wealthy parents, she had grown up in Hampstead until the tragic car crash that made her an orphan at sixteen.  Since then she had lived in a modest flat just off of Piccadilly Circus.  Her favorite pastime had been to walk over to Trafalgar Square in the morning, climb up beneath one of the massive lion statues overlooking the fountains and curl up with a good book.  Having no aspiration to amass objects or titles, Flower’s goal was simply to be, to live and to experience the world as happily as she could.  While she did still love London, she had grown bored of it.  So one day, she decided that it might be fun to live in America.  Within forty-eight hours, she was on a plane.  When Flower arrived in the United States three months ago, she became friendly with a model named Julia who lived in her apartment building.  Julia swore by Madame S as she was often called by her patrons.  Normally Flower would never have gone to a psychic but, she decided, when in Rome…
    Madame S was peculiar even for a psychic, at least as far as Flower was concerned.  She didn’t so much predict the future as provide a kind of heads up for bargain hunters.  Flower recalled her first session when she had arrived with no idea what to say.
    “What can you tell me?” she had asked the psychic hesitantly.
    Madame S closed her eyes and tilted her head back as though delving into the recesses of the spirit world.  Her voluminous lips moved slowly uttering several words that were inaudible, and then suddenly she sat up in her chair, making a booming prediction.
    “The Marshalls on Boylston Street is going to have a surprise two-day sale on slacks starting next Thursday.” 
    Flower didn’t quite know how to react to this news and there was an uneasy silence at first as the prediction set in.
    “Pardon me?”
    Madame S reached out with her frail, bony hand and gripped Flower tightly by the forearm.  Leaning towards her she spoke again, this time in a whisper.
    “Listen dear, don’t go on Thursday though.  You won’t be able to get hold of a salesgirl and you’ll only find one good pair of capris in an ugly khaki.”
    She leaned closer.
    “What you do is go Friday afternoon around three thirty and find Sheryl…Sheryl, ok?  She’s nice, middle aged with hair dyed fire engine red.  Most of the good pants will be gone but