The Psychic on the Hill


(1700 words) "What does he do all day, d’you think?” Alison said, standing at our bedroom window, looking out across the valley and up at the dilapidated farmhouse on the hill on the far side. I swivelled my chair around at my writing desk. “Didn’t you hear? Jenny says he’s a clairvoyant, does readings over the phone for people.” Alison looked in the mirror, restlessly brushing her long chestnut-brown hair. “What? How does that work, then?” “I don’t know how he does it, but they do tarot readings and stuff over the phone, don’t they?” “Hmm. That’s interesting. What, you mean people pay for it, without him seeing them?” “That’s what Jenny says. She cleans for him on Fridays, didn’t you know? Says he seems a nice bloke, keeps himself to himself. ‘Very spiritual,’ that’s what she says. D’you think he’d give me a message from mum?” I sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. Why don’t you give him a call?” In slow motion, her long, slim fingers replaced her hairbrush on the dressing table. “OK, perhaps I will.”

The Medium is the Message


(600 words) “Hello Sherina, yes, I've received your payment, how can I help?”  “Well, the world’s divided into two kinds of people. Those who hear voices in their heads and those who don’t. Some get paid for it and some get locked away!” “Ha ha, yes, I get paid for it, dear!” “Oh, getting on for thirty years!” “Well, we have ‘guides’ - people in sprit. They co-ordinate who comes through.” “Yes, they do a great job, it can get pretty busy! OK, I’m hearing the name Dianne, it’s a female energy, I’m feeling a lot of love, is it your mother, dear?” “All right, I’m feeling a sharp pain in my chest. Did she have heart problems before she passed, perhaps a heart attack? Ah, I feel she passed quickly.” “Oh, I’m sorry, dear, but she’s with me now, she says she’s fine now, and she sends her love … Sherina, are you OK, love?”