As per my custom this morning I got off the subway a few stops earlier: I emerged outside to absorb some delicious Sunshine before being trapped indoors all day.

As I ambled down Yonge St. the various stores and employees were setting up for the day…deactivating alarm codes, peeling back security bars from windows, unlocking front doors etc. the typical sights and sounds of morning capitalism.

Only as I stood and waited at a busy intersection for the permission to WALK I noticed a psychic owner standing outside her store door…she was jamming her hands in her jeans…no luck. She opened her purse…rummaging and sighing…clearly she was searching for her keys.

If a psychic can’t find her keys to open her shop how is supposed to find my future?

Just in case she is a capable mind reader I crossed the intersection before she could put a curse on me.

-28-

Also published on Medium.