Department of Department of Prognostication and Prestidigitation

Everytime, I get off the 123 Elephant, I get that feeling. Like stepping off a bus in a foreign country. You are new and you have nothing on you but paper money and directions written in a code that you don't know how to decrypt. You know? That is how I feel, everytime, I get off that tramline. And this time, oh boy, I was going to the Bureau. Someone there took pity on me and finally agreed to see me.

I mean, Harvey wasn't the sort to run off. He was loving and gentle and kind and loving. And we just got married, you know? What could make him disappear like that? I know, I know, what you are thinking. Men have needed less reasons to disappear. But, I know my Harvey. I loved him and he loved me. Naive, I know.

So, I go up to the entrance of that big peach coloured building and there is no one at the door. And I looked up. Just rows after rows of windows and obviously all of them, full of activity. But, you know what? No sound. Not a single click or clack. Just an entity with a thousand box-shaped eyes that didn't care who it swallowed next as long as the Ship Tax papers were filed correctly. God, I hate those ships.

So, I went in and there was noise. It just didn't get out the door. Now, I am standing there on the red carpet, all alone and shivering. I don't know why I was shivering but I was shivering. One of those squirrels, you know.. 'the peons', comes up to me and tugs at my dress. I did not actually know they did that. Did you? It was so weird. And then I was doing things that I did not know I was doing. I let the squirrel lead me. I followed it and I did not walk long. We came to a corridor. You know, the sort that leads nowhere? That sort. Dark and musty and staticky. The hair on my arms stood right up. The squirrel disappeared into one of the doors and I followed it and I emerged into a room. A reception room. A blue leather sofa and a water jet in the corner. Nothing else. There was a curtain at the far end and the squirrel was nowhere to be seen, so, I went towards it. I could feel a certain something. I do not know how to describe it but I knew there was something behind that door that was going to help me.

It was a machine. A fortune telling machine. You know, the kind that they have at gypsy fairs? No, you don't? Well, there were these fairs back in my hometown and it was that sort of a machine and it was kinda creepy being alone in a room with it. The squirrel wasn't there. But, I knew what I must do. Put a coin.

That is what I did. Nothing happened. So, I laughed and cried and then did both. I don't know what I had expected. So, I started to leave and I thought let me atleast get a drink of water. And as I finished drinking my drink of water, there was a whirring and a clicking sound and the machine whirred and clicked and it clanged and finally stopped making all that noise with a pop. I knew that sound and so I rushed to it.

Sure enough, there was a card. A 6x6 inch card with a prognostication. It said,

"When you leave here, you will leave happy. You will find yourself a new dress and you will treat yourself to a nice lunch. You will be happy. You will be happier when Harvey returns in 15 days.

Avoid narrow alleys and sunshine and remember that our greatest glory is not in never falling down but in never letting the neighbours know about it.

This is not a fortune cookie. I wish I could predict the future. Now sod off."

Then, I turned and I left and I could not not be happy. I knew Harvey would be back and everything would be fine.

[Do you have the card, ma'am?]

No. The squirrel took it.

[You see now, why it is so hard to believe you, ma'am?]

Oh, you silly, never you mind! You'll see in 15 days.

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This is an excerpt of a call logged by the Greater Central Police Station operator. The caller is a Angela Owens, wife of Harvey Owens. She reported him missing last Monday. The operator did not know this. Filed.