WOE: Fate

Prompt: This week, write a fiction or creative non-fiction piece where fate plays a prominent role. You can write from the position of a complete belief or absolute disbelief in the role of fate in our lives or the lives of our characters.

 

The depths of despair didn't look that much different from the rest of life, Claire mused.   The bank about to foreclose on her home looked exactly the same as it had every other time she had passed through the doors.  She had come to ask for a reprieve.  The receptionist didn't even look up from her typing, but nodded her head in the direction of the crowded waiting area. 

Head down, Claire sat slumped in a chair, her arms crossed to hold her emotions in check.   Her vision blurred. She did not want to start crying; hysteria was threatening to overtake her.  There was a gentle cough to her right.  As her eyes cleared, she focused on the white cloth in front of her.  Her eyes followed the hand holding the hanky; a tall man in a black suit sat next to her, his face concerned.  She hadn't even noticed that anyone had been sitting there.

"I'm sorry--,"  Claire began as she accepted the hanky.  She stopped, her breath hiccuped in her chest, the tears threatening once more.  A kind, comforting hand was suddenly holding hers. Claire looked up, into the most intense blue eyes she had ever seen.   

"What is the matter?"  Those eyes seemed to be staring into the very heart of her.  

With that, her fears burst forth in a rush, along with the tears Claire had been withholding so fiercely.  At that moment, she didn't care that she was in a public place, telling her secrets to a complete stranger.  She just let everything go, trusting that stranger to hear her.  

"I am so sorry," she finally sniffled, feeling drained and strangely at peace.  "You surely did not come to the bank to hear me cry about life being unfair."

 

The tall man with the intense blue eyes chuckled.   He leaned closer to Claire and winked.  

 

"I have a good feeling.  I think that everything is going to turn out just fine."   

Smiling, he stood and walked away, vanishing around a corner. Claire remained seated, bemused, still clutching the white hanky, until the receptionist called her name.  She walked down the hall to where the loan officer, a tall man in a dark suit, waited for her.