Vencer/Holland: The Martian Date

Narrated portrait of American woman in Holland discovering a strange turn-of-daylight.

A 'steam' magic noir featuring my take on writing a 'woman's' voice rather than my own. Enjoy (and thanks for reading), 

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I'd been driving my Vencer car around Holland, a rented sports-model with a terrific but smooth 'kick' in its step if you know how to handle an auto while driving confidently like a woman in Europe, even if you might be an American Catholic of normal life like me.

My name's Carol and I'd been in Europe prior, but this Holland trip would cast my serious ideations of the quality of modern travel/transit, and I took KLM from JFK to get to Europe (Frankfurt) before taking a train to Holland (eventually) where I'd put together my Facebook page mosaic with my nifty iPhone.

I took the usual boat-rides in the Netherlands and decided to take in the aura/atmospherics and of course culinary candies and general traffic-color and I made sure I'd wear my handy Coronavirus protective-mask every now and then and met some pretty nice fellows en-route to my adventure with a fortune-teller, on the day of my boat-ride, actually!

FORTUNE-TELLER: As you see, miss, I'm a meager father with my daughter ('Ezzy') and we 'run' this fortune-center together!

ME: You two look so cute, it's hard to imagine you're actually trained in astrology/palmistry, no?
FORTUNE-TELLER: Ha, you see miss, I get that (quite!) a lot, incidentally, but I assure you, Ezzy/I are the best of Holland!

ME: Maybe you'll make my Facebook-IQ page(s), eh?

The fortune-teller, an Algerian-Dutch gypsy named Satan, showed me his sparkling crystal-ball and then proceeded to look at my palm-lines and fate-lines and such and explained I'd be in 'fortune' to have 1 child only (a son) after a 40-something aged marriage but the marriage would be to an alien/Martian.

ME: That's the most absurd thing I'd heard in a while, even for European travel, you know?
SATAN: I know, I know; I assure you my fortunes are accurate, and you must be wary not to be 'swept-away' by your Martian!

ME: I wonder if all this photo-chat(s) shall render me as some kind of Earth-eccentric, Satan.

Two weeks later, I met a gorgeous/mysterious Italian artist living in Holland, by himself in a UV-lit apartment and who loved Alien movies. We got married one month later and have been married ever since. He's got this telescope now in our lovely home in Massachusetts, and I've never popped him the question, though he's everywhere on my Facebook.

I flipped through my Euro-tour photo-mosaic which included a rather 'fantastic' Fascism-march in Italy, and I wondered about all the strangeness of modern Earth and why'd I receive that bizarre fortune-reading about me eventually meeting/greeting/marrying a Martian (alien!) someday. Maybe it was all just a European fortune, eh?

Every now and then, I wake up late-night and walk to get milk and notice my darling Italian beau sitting in the front porch having chicken-soup in his Duke mug; and I get the eeriest if dissipating feeling as I return to my room that I can hear him breathing.

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)