“Beware of the Ides of March,” Madame Hannah said, picking up the tarot card with its stormy-looking tower. The woman tapped her long black fingernails on the card. Bree wondered how the woman was able to shuffle with nails that long.
“The hides of March?” Bree asked. “What’s a March hide?” Long purple curtains covered the walls of the small room, and unscented white candles burned on the side of the little circular table.
“The Ides of March,” the fortune teller said, enunciating clearly. She flipped her hand, and her long bat-wing sleeves fluttered dramatically over the small table with its crystal ball. Bree pulled her head back to avoid getting smacked in the face. She worried about the candles.
“I’m not understanding you,” Bree sighed. “When am I supposed to be aware?”
“March 15th,” the woman frowned. “The date that Julius Caesar was murdered.” Madame Hannah looked at her as if she was a moron, but how was Bree supposed to know about Greek mythology?
“Oh well, why didn’t you just say that?” she sniffed. “March 15th is tomorrow. So what am I supposed to be looking out for?”
“Chaos and change,” the woman said dramatically, leaning so close that Bree could smell the cinnamon gum on her breath.
“Could you, like, be more specific?” Bree wrinkled her nose. “Is it like being-hit-by-a-bus type chaos, or like can’t-find-matching-socks level chaos?”
“Another card is ten dollars,” Madame set the tower card on the table and extended her hand.
“I’m good,” Bree stood, ignoring the woman’s extended palm, and walked out of the little bookshop. It was a gorgeous spring day in Chicago, and Bree took a deep breath of the fresh air, tinged only slightly with bus exhaust. Though she knew she needed to get back to her desk, she walked slowly back to her apartment, stopping by her favorite smoothie store to get a mango and chocolate super kale surprise.
The line was long, and the smoothie staff moved with a lurching apathy that made her wonder if they were all stoned.
Twenty minutes later, Bree took her smoothie from the counter and sipped the bittersweet sludge. She really needed to get back to her desk. She had taken a two-hour lunch break, but that was the joy of working from home.
Back at her desk, Bree removed the vibrating device from her mouse that made it look like she was working and went to work. She answered a few customer emails and then browsed Amazon for a new blender. Maybe she could start making smoothies at home.
With a perky ping, Bree received a message from her boss in the company’s ugly messenger system.
“Bree, I’m going to need you to come into the office tomorrow.” Her boss’s message said. “8am sharp, and make sure you bring all of your company-issued equipment, please. See you tomorrow morning.”
Bree sipped her melted smoothie and wondered why her boss needed her in the office and if she could figure out an excuse to get out of it.
Julia Rajagopalan is a writer and instructional designer whose short fiction has appeared in several anthologies and online magazines, and her upcoming workbook, The Healthy Witch’s Wellness Grimoire, will be published in 2025. She is a certified nutrition coach, a 400-hour Vinyasa and Yin Yoga teacher, and practicing Bookwitch. She lives just outside of Detroit, Michigan, with her husband and their very grumpy dog.
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