KATACLYSM: A Space-Time Comedy Read Online Free PDF Page B

if you go to the back of the ladies’ department away from the fitting rooms and near the bathrooms you’ll find some nice stuff.  Trust me.”
    Madame S patted Flower’s arm and withdrew the hand giving her a wry wink.  Clearly, Madame S’s was a niche market.
    Originally, Flower suspected that Madame S was having her on, that she simply had friends that worked for the local department stores.  But the predictions were always right and the details eerily precise.  On her third visit, Madame S counseled Flower on how to pay for a satin negligée.
    “When you get to the checkout line, watch out for the woman lining up in front of you.  She’ll be chewing gum impatiently with her mouth open.  What manners! And sipping on a Snapple through a straw.  Her two boys will be running around wildly like animals through the clothing racks.  When one of them comes by she’ll lunge out to grab him and the Snapple will splash out towards you.  If you’re standing too close, it will ruin the negligée and it’s the last one they have in stock.”
    Sure enough, Flower was in the line and it all happened exactly as Madame S described it.  Of course, Flower was in the awkward position of having to pay Madame S at least double the money that she saved using any of her tips.  In the end, though, she went to Madame Sfortunata for the amusement more than anything else.  The motivation to buy some nice clothes didn’t hurt either and there was no doubt that this psychic had an eye for clothing.
    Still, Madame S had her downside.  Since she was a psychic, she refused to write down her appointments in a daytime planner.  She insisted that she could “sense when her clients were nearby and in need of assistance…besides, those planners are lost so easily, dear.”  Strangely enough, however, Flower frequently arrived only to discover that Madame S was nowhere to be found.  This was even known to happen on occasions when she had called and warned the psychic an hour in advance.  Today, Flower was simply happy to find her in.  When she entered the apartment she was hit unexpectedly by the overpowering smell of smoke.
    “Madame S, is something burning?”
    The psychic’s previous, grandmotherly smile was replaced with a look of puzzlement.
    “Burning, dear?  No.  Why?  Do you smell something?”
    “Of course.  Don’t you?  I can even see that it’s coming from the kitchen,”
    Flower gestured towards the smoke that was rising from the kitchen door.
    “The kitchen, dear?”  She looked over.  “Oh, my goodness, the cookies!”  Madame S leapt from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen.
    A minute later she reemerged carrying a dish towel and fanning herself from the heat.  Flower had already made herself comfortable in her usual chair.
    “Sorry dear, I must have forgotten.  Don’t worry.  No harm done and I’ve started another batch for us.  Now as soon as I find my glasses...”  She began patting her hand along the armoire in the corner of the room.
    “Madame S?” called Flower.
    “Yes dear?”
    “They’re in your hair.”
    Madame S felt around on top of her head for a moment, quickly locating her glasses.  “Quite right, my dear, quite right.”  How she reminded Flower of her Gran.  The psychic slowly made her way to the couch and sat down facing Flower.  Then, closing her eyes she began to hum.  She often acted this way during her sessions with Flower who figured the sound and facial expressions were done for the added suspense.  This time, however, Madame S’s eyes were squeezed tighter than usual and her forehead was scrunched up hard.  She maintained this pose for a full five minutes and when the trance was broken, sweat dripped from her temples.
    “Something most terrible has happened,” she declared out of breath.
    Flower nodded completely unfazed.  Madame S had a flare for melodrama.  “What is it?  Have they decided to close the Macy’s on Washington Street?  Maybe