When I broke up with my girlfriend, it didn’t go as expected. She said something I wished she hadn’t. I did something she thought I wouldn’t. Next thing you know, I was digging a hole in a remote location and dumping her body in. As breakups go, I’ve had better, as had she.

While removing all traces of her existence from my house, I came across a business card for a psychic who offered a free reading to those down on their luck. Though tempted, for a laugh, to schedule an appointment for my latest ex-girlfriend, I signed myself up for the reading instead. Although my expectations were low, I hoped the session provided insight into whether or not my ex planned to haunt me.

“I see darkness,” the psychic advised with eyes closed tight. When I replied with a sigh of impatience, she added, “I also see silence.”

I took that as a cue to refrain from offering any more editorial exhales, even though it was unclear how anyone could hear a noise or the absence of one. I tapped my fingertips on the table and waited. She opened her eyes but lowered her gaze towards my fingers, a dissatisfied grimace on her face.

“I see dirt. And cries for help,” she continued.

“This is nonsense.” I waved a dismissive hand through the air. “You saw the dirt under my fingernails, didn’t you?”

“I don’t explain my visions. They just come to me.”

I shook my head in disbelief and walked out, even though a chill ran down my spine while I did so. It wasn’t that I was unnerved by the suggestions that were made. It seemed curious how accurate her description had been about what was planned for the next time she and I crossed paths.