She sat on the side of the hill overlooking the town in the pre-dawn light. Holding the pouch in her hand, she gently shook it, jumbling the contents, before up-ending the river stones onto the soft dewy grass, whispering as she did so, ‘Let them fall where they may.’
She took a moment to study the pattern of their falling; where they landed, how they landed, which way they faced. Then she started to laugh. It wasn’t that she was malevolent or evil, but the town didn’t like her for the truths she would tell. But, as she told them, ‘If you ask the question, you will hear the answer.’
The town wouldn’t like the answer she had for them that morning. The townsfolk were in for a very bad day.
‘Oh well,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders. ‘You always reap what you sow.’