Every morning, Roger got out of bed, showered, dressed to kill in a black suit and tie, and walked from antique store to antique store. He spent time with antiques under his gaze through his army issue glasses frame that he’d kept by ordering new prescription lenses to go in them as time passed.

Roger liked vanities in particular, and never really knew why the hot item seemed to be the religious statues. “You might as well go to church.”

Today, he walked into one of his regular spots and stopped in front of a body length mirror. As he did, he saw a skeleton. He paid it no mind and went to the main desk of the antiques shop.

“How much do you want for the trick mirror?”

“What trick mirror?” says the clerk, looking over her computer from her seat.

“The one over there,” he points across the shop.

“That’s not a trick mirror.”

“Whatever you think it is, how much?”

She walked over with her phone in one hand and scanned a QR code on its sticker. “$50.”

“Fine. I’ll take it.”

After he payed it, and drove it back to his apartment. He put it in his bedroom and stared at it as he tried to understand the skeleton figure. Giving up, he waved his hands in the air and called it a day with a martini in one hand and Golden Eye on the TV.

He woke to his morning routine and saw the skeleton on the mirror again. Roger liked the idea of magic about as much as he liked gypsies shaman, and he knew one gypsy woman who sold him the best cigars he’d ever smoked, so he called he up on the phone. “Do you make house calls?”

She arrived at his place wearing a floral skirt and a low cut white top. Her hair done in a long braid. “Hello Roger! I can’t believe I finally get to see your house.”

“Yeah-yeah, help me out here,” he said waving her to the inside and to the bedroom.

She went inside the room and sat down on the bed. “Only if you insist.”

“Stop playing around. I know you sell your services as a fortune teller. You are the closest thing I know to a magic expert. Look in this mirror.”

“Fine. Fine.” Looking in the mirror she gasped and looked back at him. “Funny. Now you only have half a shot with me.”

“This isn’t a joke, Darlene.”

“Okay. Well, where’d you get it?”

“One of my regular antique shops. Figured I might be able to sell it, but what I see when I look in it bugs me.”

“What do you see?” she said.

“A skull and bones. You?”

“Wrinkles, grey hair, and sagging breasts. Disgusting.”

“What does it mean?” he said.

“I think it means what you see,” she said.

“Darlene, I’m only 27. Can you tell me anything?”

“If I’m any indication, you see the future. I’m… not saying how old I am, but a skeleton might mean you should take me up on my offer.”

“What?”

She jumped back on the bed, laying on her side. “I mean, I think you’re gonna die, but you might as well have fun before you do.”

Roger left her in the room and walked outside to look up into the sky. He breathed deep and thought about if time was fixed or not.

She walked up beside him and pulled a cigar from a purse. “Smoke-’em while you got them.”