The old man, who had lived too many long years to see the prophecy fulfilled, reached his hand out to her, palm wrinkled and waiting.
“You are the chosen one,” he informed her, “and the fate of the world rests in your hands.”
Those words hung between them; a crescendo of anticipation vibrated in the silence–like the whole world was holding it’s breath, waiting for her to speak and accept her destiny–before she grimaced and said:
“… Yikes.”