She knows.

Her set of small stones was always ready
She selected them while walking
In the woods around her cabin,
Cleaned them, polished them
 And painted them in rich colors
Of yellow (a possible win),
Emerald green (strong hope), blue (success)
White (pure love) and black (death, of course).
 Two stones for each.

James was at the end of his rope.
Dharma always helped him in difficult circumstances.
She was an enigmatic young lady
Living in the comfortable little place
Inherited from her mother,
A famed tarotmancer who sadly died of cancer.
She did not dislike card reading, but preferred
Her own type of dice reading.
She always hoped for positive results
But Death was still part of the messages of the Auguries.

They sat at the table.
She set the special dark red velvet cloth
With the astrological signs left to her by her mother
She mixed the small stones in her black cup, intoned a prayer
And threw them on the cloth.

One emerald green stone landed  near the center of the cloth.
A good sign.
But the two  black ones drew nearer.
Death looms.
James was not happy with the reading.
Normally she gave him signs of hope.
He walked away in a sombre mood, did not pay attention
To the traffic as he crossed the small two lanes road
Was struck by a truck
And died instantly.