Forty years ago, Albert Gregory Fleming visited a fortune teller claiming to know the date of his death. Has he lived a life of paranoia, or are these his final hours?
This was a fun read, You're not going to be able to put it down. Albert knows the exact day he's going to die, and he still has the card with the date written on it by the Gypsy, er, Romani, that gave it to him. Some unexpected things happen before we get to the satisfying conclusion, and I'm not giving any spoiler hints. Try it, you'll like it.