Snow, Gingerbread and Fate Part VII
A lot of money was on the table and Simahaa had a good hand. A few more rounds and she would win, she thought.
Suddenly the surroundings changed. This was not uncommon in her visions but was as unpleasant as the rest of it. She felt as if she was falling and hitting the ground hard. All of the air was forced out of her lungs. She pressed her teeth together and shook off the uncomfortable feeling because the vision continued immediately.
She was walking home now, tired and drunk but satisfied, because she had won a lot of money this evening. She staggered carefree through a dark alley. Only a few more streets and she could fall in her warm bed happily. But Simahaa knew what was coming now even if he didn’t. She prepared herself mentally for the next feeling; the ugliest and most terrible of all the feelings she got inside her visions of fate.
As the heavy wooden club crashed down from behind her and busted her head like a cabbage, she bit her tongue not to cry out loud.
She was used to getting hurt inside her visions. That had happened so often in the past that she knew what to expect. But dying… Dying felt like nothing. It was black, cold and silent. She couldn’t breathe nor could she hear. In fact, she could not feel anything. She just existed. This is what it must feel like when you are a stone, she had often thought grimly. That was something she would never get used to. Not that she wanted to.
