Seeing The Future

Writer Lady sits at her computer perusing well...everything.  Stopping to check her horoscope, it's late afternoon so it's fairly safe.  Predictions aren't allowed to come to pass after four p.m.  It's the law.

T.P. pops into the room flying over to hover above her left shoulder.

“Hi T.P.  How are you doing?” Writer Lady says without looking away from the monitor.

“What is Writer Lady doing?   She's not writing.” T.P. says giggling.

“I was just puttering.  Checking stuff out.  Right now I'm looking at my horoscope.”

“T.P. can tell you what is going to happen.  T.P. sees everything.” The faerie giggles.

“Thanks, but I think I'll wait.”  Writer Lady says.

Flying across the desk T.P. blocks the screen where the prediction is showing.

“T.P. will you please move?   I can't read the screen.”

“Writer Lady doesn't want to know.   Remember?  Make your actions and your words match.  Silly woman.”

“I thought T.P. sees all.”  She says.

“T.P. does.”

“So is this prediction accurate?”
 The faerie pales slightly.

Maybe you should turn around and read it before you keep me from it.

T.P. turns around in midair and starts reading.   The longer the faerie reads the more he laughs.

“So?”  Writer Lady asks.

“No, this is not for you.  Whoever it is for must be having a really bad day.  Show me another one.”   T.P. orders.

“Can I read mine first?”   Writer Lady asks.

“Show T.P. another.”  The faerie repeats.

Writer Lady pulls up another sign's prediction for the day, reading it T.P. laughs harder than he did the first time letting out a brief snort at the end.

This time it's Writer Lady's turn to giggle.   T.P. turns around to face her with a questioning gaze.

“You snorted.  I didn't mean to laugh but I didn't know faeries snorted when they laughed.”

“Yes we can laugh so hard we snort.  Some tinkle too.”

Dobby calls from the living room.  “Dobby kitty, I'm writing.”  Writer Lady calls back.  Dobby continues crying.
“Time out T.P.   I have to go see what Dobby wants.”  Writer Lady rises from the Big Writing Chair and heads into the living room leaving T.P. alone with the computer.   The faerie sits down on the edge of the keyboard starts surfing the Internet.   Lifting a finger he points to Search and the cursor is redirected. T.P. wiggles his fingers in a typing movement and enters the word “psychics” within seconds the screen is filled with listings for various psychics.  T.P. chooses one sight, then another.  Waving his hand to scroll down. Faeries don't play with mice.  Too primitive.  The faerie looks at the clock. Several minutes have passed and Writer Lady still has not returned to the room.  When T.P. gets to the next site a small box pops up showing a person waiting.  A caption above the box says to talk to the psychic click here.   T.P. giggles briefly and clicks on the appropriate spot.  The site asks for a credit card and with a little magic T.P. is able to bypass it.

“Good evening.  Do you have a question for the psychic?”  A voice asks.

“Yes.”  T.P. says.

“What's your question?”

“Answer please.”  T.P. says.

“I can't answer until you ask a question.”  The psychic says.

“A psychic knows all, sees all.  Answer the question.”   T.P. says giggling.

“I can't see your question tonight.  There's a meteor shower, it's mucking up my lines of communication.  So could you just do me a favor and tell me your question?”

“Answer please.”   T.P. repeats.

“Will you tell me your name?”  The psychic asks.

“T.P.”   The faerie says.

“That is an interesting name T.P.  I like you T.P. so I'm going to be honest with you.  I have a bad cold (the psychic coughs unconvincingly) tonight and I'm just not getting information like I usually do.  Can you just ask me the question out loud?”

T.P. puts his face to the camera mounted on Writer's Lady monitor and says, “Answer Please.”

“Hi T.P.   I can see you there.   Does your mommy know you're on her computer?”

“Using only your eyes to look keeps you from really seeing.” T.P. says.   Bending over the faerie politely moons the psychic.  “Look, it's the dark side of my moon.”   T.P. giggles.

“I can see you, you little shit.  If you don't ask the question I'm going to rack up your bill so high you'll never make it to college.”

“Begone with you.  Charlatan.”  T.P. says lifting a finger and closing the box.

T.P. looks around High Command.  He flies to the doorway and looks out.  Writer Lady is brushing Dobby while the ginger tabby purrs.  Letting out a giggle T.P. returns to the computer and his fun.   The faerie finds another psychic website and using the same magic to bypass charges he prepares to meet another victim um...psychic for advice.

“Hiya shug.  Welcome to your own personal psychic reading.  What can I help you with tonight?”  The psychic asks.

“What's my name?”  T.P. asks.

“I'm sorry hon.  I did forget to ask didn't I?  What's your name sugar?”

“Psychic knows all, sees all.  What's my name?”  T.P. continues.

“Honey I don't know.  Why don't you tell me what your name is so I can get a reading of your future?”

“If you can't tell me my name how can you see my future?”  T.P. asks.

“Do you have a camera?   Why don't you sit in front of the camera so I can see you?  I'm sure that will tell me everything I need to know.”  The psychic suggests.

“Okay”  T.P. says.  “Wanna see the dark side of a moon?”