Misty looked nervously inside the antique shop before entering.
“May I help you?” said an elderly man behind a counter.From Misty’s estimation he looked ten years past ancient. But, now that she was fully inside, she was committed. “Are you Rasputin the psychic?” “I’m not psychic.” “Oh. I just thought you might be ‘cause my friend Stacy’s sister came to Rasputin the psychic who I thought was you and really helped her with a problem she was having so I thought you might be able to help me with but you’re not him so I guess I’m wasting your time so I better stop bothering you I’m sorry I’m so embarrassed.” “I am Rasputin, but I’m not psychic. I’m mantic,” said Rasputin warmly. “What’s mantic?” “It’s kind of like a psychic, but different. The differences wouldn’t mean anything to you, but in my circles, well, it means quite a lot,” said Rasputin. Misty put her hands on her hips. “So can you help me or not?” “Tell me your trouble.” “It’s about Ryan, my boyfriend…” “Let me stop you right there. I can’t help you with matters of the heart. I’m not a ro-mantic.” “Figures. Typical man. Can you at least tell me if I’ll get into Cornell?” “Oh, actually, I’m a mantic dyslexic. I only explain what’s already occurred,” said Rasputin. “So, like, your a historian?” “There’s much more to it than that. For instance, have you ever walked into a situation and wondered what just happened? I can answer that. It’s actually quite amazing,” said Rasputin. “What good is that?” “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘if you don’t learn from history, you’re doomed to repeat it’?” “No.” “Then I can’t help you. Sorry.” Before he could finish speaking, she was out the door.