Lady Luck
She watched the woman shuffle across the street, head bowed, eyes glazed, clothing and hair both slightly askew. She had seen that walk before. She had walked that walk before. That gait was a window to forgotten hope, countless disappointments, and shattered dreams. Greg caught her staring.
“No.”
“She looks so sad.”
“Sara, no, come on, she probably just had a bad day. Who knows, maybe they just cancelled her favorite Fox show. Some people are just overly dramatic.”
Sara knew that Greg meant well, but it was too late. The light was about to change and she only had a bare instant to make her decision. Focusing on the forlorn woman, Sara invoked a moderate effort of will and ripped a tiny bit of her own luck force away, sending it spiraling in the woman’s direction. Watching her closely, Greg sighed.
“Great.”
The light flicked to green and Sara scowled at Greg before returning her gaze to the road and accelerating through the intersection. She wondered what it would be this time: a sudden thunderstorm while golfing with James, spilling her two-dollar and seventy-five cent chai latte on her laptop, a truck tire exploding right next to her on the freeway. Any number of balancing repercussions was possible, and all were unfortunate yet minor prices to pay to ease the suffering of another human being, if only for a short while. She hoped that in time Greg would see that.