Intuitive Analysis
by Isaiah J. King
I had been hired as an intern at one of those big defense contractors. A few others and I were placed on a team and told to read omens. We were supposed to predict if the company’s stock would go up or down, or if shareholders would be happy with a given decision, that sort of thing.
I didn’t know the first thing about reading omens, but neither did anyone else on the team. The manager said it was better this way. Something about channeling our untapped connection to the universe.
The first job they gave us was to read a chicken’s entrails and to tell them if some vote at their next board meeting would be “yes” or “no.” I can’t remember what the vote was for. When we opened the chicken’s pen, it ran out into the woods behind the office.
We tried to find it for a while, but we wandered into a patch of poison ivy, and my work shoes got muddy. Soon, the sun started setting, and one of the others mentioned it was 10 to 5:00, and we didn’t get paid overtime, so we went home.
The next day, one of the guys brought a rotisserie chicken to work. He told people it was for lunch but ended up throwing it off the balcony into the lobby. We inspected the splatter it made, but we didn’t know what it meant. I thought the way the skin sloughed off in one chunk was a good sign, but someone else said the way the ribs cracked was ominous. Another intern said there were no entrails in a rotisserie chicken, so whatever omen we read would mean the opposite.
We argued for a while until an angry-looking janitor walked up. He stared at me and asked which of us made the mess. We tried to explain what we were doing and how this would affect the company’s share price, but he mopped the splattered chicken off the tile floor. When he had finished, he spat at me, and it landed on my new shirt. It smelled like cough drops.
After that, we agreed to just flip a coin and divine the results of “heads or tails.” We did so and told our manager how we interpreted the omen. Somehow, our divination leaked. A lot of higher-ups sold their stock, and then the board voted “yes”; the coin was right.
Our manager was fired for accessory to insider trading, and our department was dissolved. I haven’t tried my hand at divination since then, but I do play the lottery. I’ve won only a few times.
Copyright © 2024 by Isaiah J. King
