The Palm Reader's Warning

Maya stared at her reflection in the office bathroom mirror. Dark circles under her eyes, skin the color of old paper. Another fourteen-hour day as a junior associate at the firm, and she felt like something that had been dead for years but refused to lie down. A corporate zombie in a designer suit.

"You coming to happy hour?" called Sarah from the hallway.

"Can't. Williamson wants those briefs by midnight."

"Jesus, Maya. You've been here since 6 AM."

Maya shrugged. She checked her iPhone—three missed calls from her mother, two texts from her ex-boyfriend she kept forgetting to block. The screen cracked six months ago when she threw it against a wall after a particularly brutal conference call. She'd meant to replace it. Never found the time.

She stepped outside for air. The city sidewalk was crowded. A woman sat behind a folding table with a crystal ball, a sign that read PALM READING - $20. Maya almost walked past. Something stopped her.

The old woman took her hand, traced the lines with a yellowed fingernail.

"You're exhausted," the woman said.

"It's been a long week."

"No. I mean your soul is tired. You've been running on empty for so long you've forgotten what it feels like to be full."

Maya pulled her hand back. "That's not what my palm says. That's what my dark circles say."

"The lifeline is short," the woman continued, her voice gentle. "But the headline—that's the path you choose—it's faded. You're not choosing anymore. You're letting things happen to you. You're sleepwalking through your own life."

Maya's iPhone buzzed in her pocket. Williamson. Probably demanding to know where she was.

The old woman looked at the phone, then back at Maya. "The dead walk among us, you know. Not in stories. In cubicles and corner offices. People who forgot why they wanted what they wanted, until one day they realize they never actually wanted it at all."

Maya stared at her. The phone buzzed again.

"What should I do?" Maya whispered.

"Wake up," the woman said. "Before you forget how."

Maya walked back to the building, phone in hand. She could see Williamson pacing through the glass lobby doors. She stood on the sidewalk for a long moment, thumb hovering over the screen. Then she walked past the building, kept walking until the skyscrapers thinned into trees, until she could breathe again.