vision – Treat Yourself to a Journaling Adventure

Here is today’s prompt: Binding Judgment. Does it ever make sense to judge a book by its cover-literally or metaphorically? Continuing on with the blog challenge.

*Please excuse the rugged format. WP and formatting are in mercury retrograde. Perfectionism is not my problem right now-not that it ever was! 🙂

“When someone shows you who they are believe them the first time” –Maya Angelou

Based on a true story:

She wears a beige and maroon checkered blouse, reminding me of my Michigan farm aunts. I search her face wondering if she’d shopped in here before. About mid- fifties, solid, healthy and she wears her hair gray hair sensibly. Nothing about her is forced. I trust her. She stands at the counter watching me check out her groceries, shifting her weight briefly. She’s chosen just-delivered d’anjou pears, fresh almonds, a few flavored yogurts, and a bag of this season’s newest apricots.

“It’s a great crop this year” I say, nodding towards the apricots.
“California living at its finest.” She answers with a twinkle. “They smell delicious!”

The early summer breeze drifts in through the open door of the produce market. I can see right out into the parking lot out towards the feed store, and for a moment I feel like I’m in a faded dream. Then I remember a phrase from the book of poems I’m reading. I can’t wait to read it at lunch. I’m also just a little excited. Maybe Clayton, the feed store owner’s son, will be loading the hay trucks today.

My customer scoops up her groceries.

“Do you have a minute?” she asks, “I want to tell you something.”
“Sure,” I respond, “I can take a break.”
We move our conversation outside to the outdoor tables.
“Do you believe in psychics?” asks the matronly lady suddenly.

“Well….I don’t know. I think there’s something to it.” I’m getting jingly shiver-like goose bumps.

“My name is Irma,” she said calmly, “I work as a registered nurse over at Baker Hospital…and… I’m a psychic…a clairvoyant. Can I look at your hand for a moment?”

I’m m just a little embarrassed about the scar on my left forearm. Something twinkles in the corner of my right eye. Her hands are soft and warm.
“I see that you are a writer…and that you work with your hands…a painter. ” She continues, “ and… you, too, have the gift of being seer.”
I have a new friend it seems, and a way to explore the topic I’ve been hiding.Somehow I know she’ll be back to the store and that we will talk again.

Journal prompt: Write a dialogue about someone you’ve met in real life. Have you ever had a feeling about someone, like you’ve known them all your life, and you trust (or don’t trust) them?