I sat in the electric chair, awaiting my execution. The assistant was wearing a baggy olive-green T-shirt. She instructed me to place my hands on the metal plates either side of the chair. I obeyed her because she looked like Christina Ricci, and I would have done anything for Christina Ricci. She stood in front of me with the camera. ‘Smile!’ I obliged.

A few seconds later, the photo chugged out of the camera. I peered at the picture. I looked startled and stern, like a constipated headmistress in an Adidas T-shirt who had farted a rainbow.

‘Now for the reading.’ Madame Auracle took the photo in her hand and raised her eyebrows. ‘Lots of red … You are an enthusiastic and energetic individual, forever on the lookout for new adventures. You are quick to anger and can lose your temper over the smallest thing. You are generous with your time and energy when called upon for help. You are easily bored.’

‘She won’t even sit still to watch a film,’ my mother said.

Madame Auracle continued. ‘And so now we come to the other side of your personality – we have lots of yellow here. The yellow part of your aura represents the highly critical part of you. But those who have high standards, that exacting voice inside that is so harsh on the world and others, that same voice is even harsher when it turns on you, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ my mother said, ‘definitely. She has VERY high standards.’

I nodded.

‘And if you were easier on yourself, then you might find it easier to allow others to love you for who you are.’

‘Too true,’ my mother said.

Madame Auracle nodded sagely. ‘Your main fault is that you can be overly analytical. And this creates a fear that makes you unable to communicate openly and freely.’

I said, ‘Sounds like a lot of people I know, to be honest.’

Madame coughed. ‘That concludes the reading. Most auras stretch three feet around the physical body; however, if you’re a trauma survivor your aura stretches fifty feet around you – which means people around you on the bus will be sitting in it. Your mother will be sitting in it. We’ll all be sitting in it, right now. Your aura mess. I can clean it up for you for an extra £5.99.’

I shook my head.

‘You should have a quick clean,’ my mother said.

‘I’m not traumatised.’

THEY SAY

you should never look at the comments. That to go ‘below the line’ is to open the portal to death and damnation. BTL = the Gateway to Hell. I say, that kind of self-control is one for the healthy of mind and heart. Meanwhile, you’ll find me shrieking and wallowing in the lake of digital hellfire with all the worst people on the internet. Waving, drowning, backstroke, who knows what I’m doing – but I’m not for being saved. Come on in! The water’s … excruciating.