Sadie Wilde

“Huh.” She sighed when she ran out of blue paint.

‘I guess that’s all I can do for now.’

The young artist put the brush in a cup of water among a few others and proceeded to wash her hands in the sink basin. She then removed the paint coverall she wore leaving her in underwear.

Sadie rented a space in a co-op with other artisans. It held some paintings she failed to sell, which was most lately, and the sink.

After straightening the place up and putting her supplies away, she changed into her regular clothes, ripped jeans and a tattered green shirt, and her shoes of course. Picking up her purse, she left and then locked the door behind.

“Bye, Gary.” She said to the passing sculptor.

“Kind of early today, isn’t it? You have a meeting with a dealer? Maybe get into gallery?”

“No, I just running out to get some more supplies. I was centered too!” She complained.

“I hate it when that happens. But with me it’s more of interruptions. The stone is still there.”

“Yeah yeah.” She replied while leaving.

Once on the streets of Austin she drove to the nearby paint supply store. Almost to Jerry’s Artarama, Sadie Wilde was driving through an intersection when a semi truck ran the light. It hit on the drivers side door and while the driver tried braking, the semi failed to slow down enough to prevent her . The brake lines the owner of the vehicle kept putting off changing finally failed.

The next thing Sadie knew, she was floating in front of a throne occupied by a woman with a perfect face.

“Really Truck-kun?!” She shouted into the air. “You missed again. The heroine was in the vehicle behind! Now get me that soul!”

“Rrrmmmmble.” Sadie heard the throaty engine of a truck before it disappeared and a small weight lifted off her.

“Now what to do with you?” The woman muttered.

Sadie wanted to speak, but no sound came.

“I cannot reincarnate you as your were killed by Truck-kun. Your soul has already been soaked in the trait required for the heroine I expected, so that limits the worlds I can send you to. An artist I see.”

‘Where did she get that file?’

The woman was reading through a thick folder.

“This is not just a file Sadie Petunia Wilde. This is your life and the life you should have lived. You would have eventually found a wife and adopted a child, quit your dreams as an artist to become a paramedic when your paintings stopped selling. Oh you were quite talented, but the economy changed when Donald Trump was narrowly elected for a second term and his policies tanked it. I suppose I could send you…”

The woman stared off into space thinking.

‘Woah! Was her hair always that color? Is she older now? Younger? What was I thinking just now? Did something pass through me?’

“There, all done. Time to send you on your way. Ignore the game like system. You will only see it once when you arrive. Goodbye Sadie Wilde. Too bad you won’t remember me or your full past life or who you were. By the way, I removed that terrible middle name of yours.”

Sadie’s conscience then fades to black.