I managed 1509 words of blind fate. I am running behind my planned schedule.

Spoiler: Blind Fate, part two
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Work ended.
There were three hourss for Sandra to get ready for the evening. She jogged home, because it pays to be in good running shape.
She decided, that there was little she could do about the vision, other than the usual precautions. So instead she did her afternoon workout routine, took a quick shower, and started putting on her face.
As a rule she didn’t wear dresses, too many things could go wrong. She gave it a second thought tonight, she had a single dress in her closet, a nice one. After a moment she discarded the idea, what if she needed to run or to climb something? The dress would just get in the way.
It took a while to pick out a shirt, she needed one that would look good, and still conceal the standard precautions. She didn’t want to seem to paranoid tonight.
No one ever talks about how much extra times goes into planning when you have oracular abilities. But then most people can’t see the future, and thus can’t comment on the need for planning.
Maybe she was overthinking it, the vision, but what else could she do? Not thinking about seemed likely to get her shot.
She wasn’t thinking much about her plans for the evening, she had been distracted by the vision. Thinking about that made her realise that she should be nervous, and imedeately, she was.
It took her a couple of minutes to wrestle her mind back on track, and she set tor brushing her hair, just to focus on something else.
In the end, she got ready.


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She got to the restaurant early.
It was a habit she had formed years ago, to arrive anywhere with enough time to spare to scout out her surroundings. When you are constantly fighting fate, you learn to plan ahead.
The place was gorgeous. Sandra didn’t eat out often, she simply couldn’t afford to, but she recognised a high quality restaurant when she saw one. Every surface was polished and all the waiters looked like they had been carved in marble and animated specifically for the pupose of serving her dinner.
One of them, a blonde girl showed her to the table reserved for her and her party. She sat down and took in the place, pondering what she had gotten herself into.
Janet had set up the entire thing, ordered the table, set the menu and paid in advance. When Sandra pointed out that Janet wasn’t even going to be pressent, Janet had told her to pipe down and let her have fun in her own way.
This place was way too expensive for Sandra, her wage wasn’t bad, but she did spend a fair bit of it on precautions against fate. Which was the main reason she had ended up agreeing to this at all, that and the hope of getting Janet to mind her own business for a while.
Janet had money. Sandra didn’t know the details, but her rainbowheaded friend has inherited a lot of wealth from some relative, and now she mostly ran the shop as a way of staving of boredom.
So who was Sandra to complain if her freind wanted to pay for her to eat an expensive dinner?
Of course she had complained, but not about the dinner, the venue or who was paying. She had complained, resisted and pushed it off because of Janet’s ulterior motives.
In the end though, rainbowhead’s endless persistance had overcome her defences and she had agreed to spend one friday evening indulging her friend’s odd desires.
She had not expected to have a vision of impending doom on the same day, but those never took her scedule into account.
She was just about to return to pondering her vision, when someone politely cleared their throat right next to her.
“Excuse me,” Said a soft male voice. “Are you Sandra Cassidy?”
She almost jumped out of her chair in surprise. She had been way to lost in thought for her own good, and even the polite interruption had been enough to startle her.
“Yes.” She said, answering too fast and sounding nervous. “You must be Gregory.”
As she spoke, she looked up into a set of calm, ice blue eyes. Shew drew in a sharp breath as she focused and took in the man’s face. Sharp features, clever eyes and jet black hair.
She recognised the man at once… From her vision.
“Yeah.” He smiled, and it looked good on him. “Gregory Pierce, Janet told me good things about you.”
Her heart started pounding.
She couldn’t quite say if it was the smile, or her memories of the vision, but something set her entire system on overdrive and she could feel her face growing red.
“Janet’s a hopeless optimist.” She said, trying to seem casual.
Was this really the man who was going to shoot her? That’s the tricky thing about visions. Everything you see in your profetic dream can be completely true and you might still find a way to misread it.
Mythology and folklore is rife with examples of people meeting their tragic ends because they misunderstood a profecy.
Hell, for all she knew, he might shoot her because she treated him badly, thinking he was going to shoot her. Janet had vouched for his kindness and integrity, but the rainbowhead could be all too trusting at times.
“Well, you will be happy to know that she has painted near angelic pictures of you.” Gregory said and pulled out the chair across from her.
He sad down with a graceful movement. It wasn’t hard to sit down in a chair, but Gregory managed to make it look good. He had an air of competence about him, making every movement seem like a part of some elaborate coreografy.
Over the last few weeks, Janet had taken every chance to talk this guy up, trying to make Sandra believe that he was some sort of super being. Sandra had been carefully pesimistic, but seeing him, she had to admit that he was quite handsome.
“Like I said,” She mumbled. “She’s an optimist.”
“Well she didn’t lie about your hair colour at least.” He flashed her and other smile and she couldn’t help smiling back.
“Let’s make a deal.” She said, trying to calm her pounding heart. “Let’s make this a nice date.”
“A nice date?” He asked, a curious smile dancing on his lips and in his eyes. “How do you propose we do that?”
“Promise not to shoot me at the end of the night?” The words were out of her mouth before she got the chance to think them through.
He barked out a short laugh, and shook his head with amusement.
“I think I can keep that promise.” There was still laughter in his voice, but when he spoke again he sounded very serious. “If you pormise me something in return.”
“And what should I promise?”
She couldn’t help feeling relaxed around Gregory, even though a tiny voice in the back of her head was yelling at her that he was dangerous, that he would shoot her, the visions had told her that much. She ignored it and tried to look friendly.
“No shop talk.” He stated simply. “I don’t need to know about your work, and I don’t need to talk about mine.”
That seemed odd, most people like talking about their jobs. Boasting or ranting, it was a familiar topic, a safe conversation space. What had Janet told her about Gregory’s work? She couldn’t remember anything about it.
“Right,” She agreed, she had no interest in discussing her work either, so it suited her fine. “No shop talk. So what shoud we talk about?”
He folded his face up in a thoughtful grimace, making a show of thinking it over. Before her got done with the pantomime, the waiter arrived with their entrés.
Two place loaded with intricate morsels of fish garnished with small bits of vegetables. There was not danger of eating to much and getting fat, the entrees were very much teaser size, but they did look delicious anyways.
Sandra started eating, and realised that with all the tension and buildup to this blind date, she was ravenous. She was tempted to shove all the bits of fish into her mouth at once, but decided to slow down and at least try to look civilized.
“Have you been on many blind dates?” Gregory asked as he speared the first morsel on his fork.
“This is my first.” She admitted. “I did some regular dates, but mostly they went pretty wrong.”
“Pretty wrong?” He asked. “How so?”
“One guy caught fire halfway through.” She admitted, as she popped a bit of fish in her mouth.
“Fire? Is this some sort of metaphor?”
“No, it was a candlelight dinner.” She explained. “A candle tipped over and set the curtains on fire. He tried to beat it out, and his sleeve caught the flame.”
“Wow!” Gregory pronounced energeticly. “That is some next level bad karma.”