El Advino Viejo

Ramón walked across the plaza. The birds no longer sang of hope. Now their noise mocked him, told him what he was. What he would always be.

Up ahead the old man was still sitting at his little table in the shade, the same old man who’d offered to tell Ramón his fortune earlier, when Ramón’s future seemed so bright.

He had told the old man that there was no time, but really he was early for the interview. There was plenty of time.

Ramón wondered now if telling the old man this lie had somehow cursed him. He wondered if knowing one’s fortune could alter it. He wondered if it was not too late.

The old man sat at his table, the greasy deck of cards before him. He looked up at Ramón with ancient black eyes, beckoned for him to sit.

Ramón felt in his pocket for the coins.


What Pegman Saw


Add Yours
  1. Lynn Love

    What has Ramon learned in the meantime to tell him he has no future? A touch of self- fullfilling prophesy here, perhaps. No good ever comes from knowing the future, as everyone’s future is ultimately the same. Kind of creepy but in a good way.

  2. k rawson

    Love the mystery and subtlety you capture in this piece. I want to think if he is honest this time, his fortunes could be improved? Or maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy all the time. Well told.

    That picture is a great find for this story.

  3. James

    Sometimes I wonder if people think about prayer this way. Should I have prayed and because I didn’t now am I cursed? If I pray, can I still be blessed? It’s enough to make you mad, but then again, faith isn’t the same thing as the occult.

  4. EagleAye

    I think that whatever you think, you’re right. If Ramon thinks he’s cursed, then he is. He’ll be trapped in his own hell, assembling it brick by brick with is own belief. Every move supporting what he already imagined. A fascinating character study.

Don't just stand there.