The Kind heart is always rewarded.

"I don't think so", Izzy thought, turning over the small white slip of paper, and chewing the last of the impossibly brittle morsel, a resonance of stale almond flavoring lingering on her lips.

Lucky numbers 14 7 31 8  Chinese for moon is lah.

That's good to know, she thought, amused by her own sarcasm. She had found a couple of fortune cookies while cleaning out the last of Aunt Ellie's cabinets. I'm sure they're still good, she reasoned as she tore open the clear plastic wrappers, ignoring her usual gastronomic sophistication, and trying anything to stifle the raging hunger that had announced itself several hours earlier. Stopping to eat then would have been senseless. She had work to do, and besides it was a good fortyfive minutes each way to Goody's general store for a simple sandwich and sweet tea. She would have been here alone until well after midnight.

Nowadays Izzy could barely bring herself to be here during the middle of the day. She gathered the cookie wrappers and tossed them into one of the old boxes she was using for garbage and reluctantly admired her work. The entire contents of the house had been neatly wrapped, packed, labled and boxed, a labyrinth of corrugated cardboard dividing the sitting room into neat pathways. An entire lifetime organized into 20 x 20 , 36 x 36 and the most costly 96 x 36 reusable packing crates. A small bowl and blanket the only exception.

Mr Whiskers?, Izzy called gently, hoping the aging feline hadn't been accidentally packed away. A small tangerine colored face peered around one of the boxes. Izzy lifted him gently, kissing the top of the tawny head.

"I'll be back tommorrow" she promised. It will all be over tommorrow she thought. With the touch of a switch the house was blanketed in darkness.  

The unpaved road leading to Aunt Ellies snaked through three or four miles of open farmland before meeting the main road into town. Izzy had driven this road countless times this summer. To Charlies pharmacy for a myriad of medications, to Dr. Sanders for Mr. Whisker's thyroid pills, and to Goody's for just about everything else. When she first arrived in early June, the young crops nestled low against the rich coffee colored soil. Now she navigated her small hatchback through a dense canyon of high sturdy stalks of corn.

She slipped the fortune into her pocket and