The Witch and I

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I met a witch the other day.

Submitted: January 16, 2014

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Submitted: January 16, 2014

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“Why are you staring at me?” she asked.

 

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

 

“Well? Answer my question.”

 

“Because you look like a witch.”

 

I was not planning on saying that out loud. It’s as if she forced the words out of my mouth.

 

“I am a witch," she said.

 

I ignored that.

 

“I meant it as a compliment, though. You know, like Anjelica Houston or Helena Bonham Carter. Not like the one from Snow White. That bitch is ugly.”

 

She ignored that.

 

“So you’re a witch, huh?”

 

This time I got a nod.

 

“What makes you so sure?"

 

"I can foretell the future."

 

“Well, can you foretell mine? For free?”

 

"At around seven o'clock, you will witness a cat kill seven people."

 

“Uh-huh. You mean like a big cat? A tiger… a cheetah, maybe?”

 

"An alley cat.”

 

I chuckled. She didn’t.

 

“So… what else do you know about the future?"

 

"Three years from now, your poop will smell like perfume."

 

I laughed. She didn’t.

 

“A processing conglomerate will come up with a substance which when added to food reacts with the body during digestion, eventually neutralizing the smell of human feces.”

 

“Wow.”

 

I wondered if she was high or if I was an unwitting participant in a social experiment.

 

“One of the world’s largest cosmetics companies will then improve on the concept, allowing consumers to choose from a wide range of scented formulas that will make their shit smell like Dolce & Gabbana.”

 

“And people would actually buy that?”

 

“It will be like the new iPhone.”

 

I smiled. She didn’t.

 

“What else can you tell me?”

 

“What else do you want to know?”

 

“Will time travel be possible?”

 

“Only to the past.”

 

“You mean I will be able to go back and correct my stupid mistakes and shit?”

 

“No, you will have been dead by then."

 

"Oh."

 

"People will be able to travel back in time but only as spectators, unable to change anything.”

 

“Where’s the fun in that?”

 

“All forms of crime can and will be solved instantly.”

 

“Whoa, that’s cool… How did you come up with that?”

 

“I saw it,” she replied.

 

I felt a chill down my spine.

 

“Okay, I believe you.”

 

I didn’t. But her eloquence and confidence aroused my curiosity.

 

“Will Jesus ever come back?”

 

“Only to accompany Zeus in the Fiction section of every bookstore.”

 

“Will Earth really run out of oil?”

 

“Yes, but not before the human species becomes extinct.”

 

“Will World War III ever happen?”

 

“No. But every now and then the UN will annihilate a whole country.”

 

“Is white supremacy eternal?”

 

“On the contrary, the white race will cease to exist.”

 

“Shit, who will kill them?”

 

“Interracial marriage.”

 

“Will humanity find a cure for cancer?”

 

“Sooner than you think.”

 

“Will there be X-Men in the future?”

 

“There will be mutants, yes.”

 

“Oh my god, real-life superheroes?!”

 

“Computers will also be able to perform whatever feats they can, so no.”

 

“Holy fuck… Flying cars?”

 

“Not quite. Teleportation will be the prevailing mode of transport.”

 

“Telepor— So magic is real?”

 

“No, but science is.”

 

“Will poverty be eliminated?”

 

“Depends on how you define poverty. By the time teleportation becomes the mainstream, even the poorest people will have a MacBook.”

 

“You sound a lot like an Apple fan.”

 

“Everyone will be. Apple will acquire all its competitors only to dissolve them, making itself the sole supplier of consumer electronics in the whole solar system.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“Mars and three other planets will be habitable.”

 

I looked at my watch. 6:57. I needed to be somewhere in half an hour and had to say goodbye.

 

The way she spoke, she was probably a columnist… or simply a science fiction enthusiast, I thought as I walked away.

 

Crossing the street, I caught a glimpse of the aftermath of a nasty-looking accident. A badly banged up SUV seemed to have collided with an OB vehicle. I looked at my watch. 7:00.

 

Later that night when I turned on the TV, the incident was being reported:

 

“And now an update on the Main Street collision earlier tonight that claimed seven lives. According to the authorities, surveillance tapes show that the 2013 Buick Enclave made the deadly swerve to avoid hitting a cat that appeared from nowhere in front of the road.”


© Copyright 2019 Ateo en la Trinchera. All rights reserved.

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