The Fortune Teller

For as long as I could remember, I had possessed the gift of sight. I could see things that others couldn’t – glimpses of the future, hints of what was to come. And so, I had become a fortune teller, using my gift to help others find their way in life.

But one day, something changed. It started out innocuously enough – a few customers here and there, all with the same vision for their future. Fire and smoke, destruction and chaos. It was a strange and unsettling pattern, but I tried not to think too much of it.

As the days passed, however, the pattern grew more and more pronounced. Every customer who came to me had the same vision – a world consumed by flames; a future destroyed by fire. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, I began to realize that something was very wrong. There was a darkness creeping into the world, a force that was spreading like cancer and consuming everything in its path.

I tried to warn people, to tell them of the danger that was coming. But no one would listen. They scoffed at me and dismissed me as a madwoman. And so, I retreated into myself, withdrawing from the world and the people in it. But the visions only grew stronger. They came to me in my dreams, in my waking moments, and even in the midst of my daily routines. Everywhere I turned, I saw the same thing – a world consumed by fire and smoke, a future destroyed by the darkness that was spreading like a plague.

And then, one day, it happened. The sky turned red, the ground shook with the force of the flames. I watched in horror as the world burned around me, as the very fabric of reality was torn apart by the darkness that had consumed it. As the flames of the apocalypse consumed everything in their path, the vast majority of humanity was wiped out. Only a handful of individuals managed to survive the cataclysmic event. And as I stood there, alone in the midst of the burning ruins, I realized that my gift had been a curse all along. I had seen the future, but I had been powerless to change it. And now, as the world burned around me, I knew that there was no going back.

In the aftermath of the apocalypse, I wandered the desolate ruins of what was once a thriving civilization. The world was unrecognizable, a barren wasteland devoid of life and hope. I was among the very last humans alive, damned to bear witness to the world that once was. As I roamed the empty streets and charred remains of buildings, I thought back to the days when I had used my gift to help others. I had believed that I could make a difference, that I could use my abilities for good. But in the end, it had all been for nought. I had been powerless to stop the darkness that had consumed the world. My warnings had fallen on deaf ears, and now I was left to bear witness to the destruction that I had foreseen.

In the days that followed, I struggled to come to terms with my newfound reality. I had lost everything – my home, my loved ones, my purpose in life. The weight of my gift hung heavy on my shoulders, a constant reminder of the world that had been lost. A world I had failed to help.