Welcome to this month’s Pilot Program contender for 2021. If this is your first time reading anything from The Pilot Program, it works something like this: Every year I publish a 52 week short story series on this blog. And since 2019, I publish almost every month a new short story pilot which could become the short story series for the next year. How? With your likes, comments, shares, and views. So, if you like it: share it, comment, like it, discuss it and it could become the next 52 week short story series. This is the second short story in The Pilot Program this year after January’s The Horrorscope. So, hope you enjoy it.
“Tomorrow you will die.” A fortune teller told me yesterday. And now I don’t know what to do anymore, I’ve called my family, all my friends that meant something to me, told the one I liked that I liked them and now what? She read my fortune thrice, and every single time somehow the same results appeared in front of us. The same dreaded cards, not one slight variation. What are even the odds? Maybe I should try today too… But what if I am killed on my way? Shit… Then what if I did a reading of my own? If I remember correctly mom left a deck of cards in the upstairs cupboard. I was right it seems… Let’s try this. How did it go? You ask a question, then shuffle them to transfer your energy into the cards. Okay, now… If I remember correctly you need to put the cards face down. So the first one is upright, the next one is horizontal over the first one, like a plus. Next one is above, then under, then to the left and to the right. Now the last four going upwards…. Now, to read them…
How did she do it? She took the second card off and turned the first one. Let’s see… The Devil, she said that this could mean like four things for me right now in the present. The six of swords. Shit! It’s repeating itself. So that means, experiencing the blues. So those are the present and what’s impacting me, the next one is my consciousness. The four of pentacles. Great. The unconscious is? Nine of swords, so depression, anguish, suffering. What’s behind me in the recent past? King of Pentacles. Everything is repeating once more, this too. So what lies ahead? Eight of cups. No! Why? Growing weary. Shit! Then that means that the lesson I should learn is… Ten of Wands, of course, to struggle. And that means that the world sees me as… Four of cups, obviously, self-absorbed. And the last two must be just like last time too… The Tower, a sudden change and destruction and the last one is Death. God damn it! And none of this tells me what exactly to look out for.
Did I hear something fall? In the kitchen? Everything seems fine. In the living room? No, everything is fine here too. Basement? What if someone broke in? What if that’s how I die? Why is it so dark in here? I hear the police siren. You know what? I’m not going down there. Let’s just lock the doors. That’s one… That’s a second… That’s a third. Now, that feels better. I’m all a sweat. Why? Why am I sweating? What’s wrong with me? Am I having a heart attack? No one will find me, I need to unlock the door, call an ambulance. There’s a knock on the door… Why is there a knock on the door? Who is it? I’m not expecting anyone. Are they here to kill me? I’m dead, aren’t I? Who’s there? Why aren’t they responding? Why do they keep knocking? I said… Who is there? What the fuck… What the fuck… I don’t want to die. I need to see who it is…
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