Aleph

‘When God allows me to, I can see. I know who each of the people around this table was, is and will be. I don’t understand my gift, but I long ago learned to accept it.’

The conversation should be about the trip to Sicily with friends who share a passion for classic Harley-Davidsons, but suddenly it seems to have taken a dangerous turn into areas I don’t want to enter right now. A case of synchronicity.

It’s my turn to speak:

‘You also know, then, that God only allows us to see such things when he wants something to change.’

I turn to Véronique and say, ‘Just take care. When something on the astral plane is placed on the earthly plane, it loses a lot of its force. In other words, I’m almost sure there will be no accident.’

Véronique offers everyone more wine. She thinks that the Moroccan clairvoyant and I are on a collision course. This isn’t the case; the man really can ‘see’ and that frightens me. I’ll talk to Hervé about it afterwards.

The man barely looks at me; he still has the absent air of someone who has unwittingly entered another dimension and now has a duty to communicate what he is experiencing. He wants to tell me something, but chooses, instead, to turn to my wife.

‘The soul of Turkey will give your husband all the love she possesses, but she will spill his blood before she reveals what it is she is seeking.’

Another sign confirming that I should not travel now, I think, knowing full well that we always try to interpret things in accordance with what we want and not as they are.

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