Poe
written by: Phyllis P. Colucci
@FictionTarot
One day while visiting a local storefront Fortune Teller, just for fun of course, I became entwined in a magical web that led me down a path I had never travelled before. This Fortune Teller, who called herself Ms. Silvia, looked into her crystal ball and said, “Oh my dear young lady, please tell me, what is your wish? I see that there is something very special you have been yearning for. Tell me. I want to hear you speak your desire. I can grant you your wish, but you must speak it loudly to the spirits of the universe. My crystal ball is showing me a strange gentleman of the arts whom you have a strong desire to meet.”
I was dumbfounded. I was speechless; but I was curious. I knew immediately what and who she was talking about. Could this be real? Can she grant me my special wish, my true desire? She asked me again, “Young lady, what do you desire? Please tell me your wish. Is it to meet this gentleman of the arts?” I stared deeply into her large dark brown eyes and replied, “Yes ma’am. My wish and my desire is to meet the one and only Edgar Allan Poe. A writer of the most intriguing poems and short stories I have ever read. He is a master of mystery and the macabre. I would love to have a conversation with him.”
Ms. Silvia said, “Give me your hand, dear.” She placed my hand on top of her crystal ball and said, “Your wish has been granted, my friend. Go in peace.” I handed her the twenty dollars she charged for a reading and said, “Really Ms. Silvia? Is that it? Go in Peace? Forgive me for saying this, but you are just like any other Fortune Teller. You just take the money and run. Will you be here tomorrow? The next day? The next? I doubt it. You will probably pick up, disappear; and set up shop somewhere else, leaving fools like me feeling used and abused by your scam… Have a good day, Ms. Silvia. Thanks for the entertainment. I won’t be back.” Ms. Silvia just smiled at me and said, “Be patient my dear. You must believe in your heart, even if your mind tells you not to. You will come back to thank me. I will see you very soon, dear.” I laughed at her as I shook my head in annoyance, and left her little shop.
As I walked through the park to make my way home, I heard footsteps behind me. I picked up my pace out of fear, in hopes the stranger at my back would pass me by without incident…and he did; but he took a seat on the old wooden park bench outside the doggie park. I quickly walked past, without making eye contact, when he said, “Excuse me Miss, I am new in the neighborhood, and I was just wondering if you would be kind enough to direct me to the nearest café. If you would like to join me, I would gladly buy you a cup of coffee for your time.”
I was startled, but I approached the bench. I knew nothing bad would happen in this crowded park. This gentleman seemed kind enough. He looked a bit “outdated” in his attire and mannerisms, yet he was quite sincere. He introduced himself to me as “Mr. Poe.” He told me he was a writer. He was dressed in black with a black cape over his shoulders. He had dark hair and a mustache, and his dark eyes were mystifying. He reeled me in with a stare, and I wanted to know more about him. I suddenly felt weak. Could Ms. Silvia have granted me my wish? Was she genuine? This was surreal… I politely responded that my name was Carol and I was delighted to make his acquaintance. He got up from the bench, offered his arm, and together we strolled to the café two blocks down from the park.
Over coffee, we discovered we both shared a great love of poetry and short stories. We discussed “The Raven,” “Annabel Lee,” “The Pit and the Pendulum,” “The Cask of Amontillado,” and so much more. Oh my God. I knew it was him. He gave me detailed information on how each poem and short story was created. Then he pulled out a leather-bound book from his tattered satchel, titled “The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe.” Inside he wrote – “To My Dearest Carol. Thank You for today. Please enjoy this book. Eternally yours, Edgar.” He handed me the book, got up from his seat, kissed my cheek, walked out of the café, and disappeared into the afternoon sunlight. I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. I just placed my hand on my cheek, exactly where he kissed me, and felt electrified. Something magical, and much bigger than myself, just happened to me…I was already missing this strange man, who lived in another time and another place, many years ago.
…I stared and stared after him, hoping to catch a last glimpse of the Man I now share a literary love affair with; but he was gone. My heart was pounding. I was forever grateful that I had been given this wondrous opportunity to meet the great Edgar Allan Poe, and to have spent a bit of time with him. A teardrop fell from my eye onto the book. I realized from this moment on that Edgar and I were connected forever. This encounter would transcend time, and I knew in my heart Edgar and I would meet again one day; if not in this life, perhaps in the next… I left the café with a bittersweet heart and headed over to see Ms. Silvia. She was certainly correct in saying I would be back to thank her. I truly needed to apologize to her for not believing in her and for speaking so harshly to her when I left her shop. So that’s just what I did. I heard the footsteps again, and I felt the spirit of Mr. Poe behind me. Together we headed over to visit Ms. Silvia – me and the marvelous Mr. Edgar Allan Poe.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This piece is a bit of “Flash Fiction,” focusing on a young woman’s wish and desire to meet the strange, incomparable and very talented writer, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe. If you wish hard enough, even the impossible may be possible.
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