Throughout 2006 I set my sights on beginning creative writing again on 1/1/07. Scrapbooking has had the front seat for long enough. Well, I can't give up scrapping but I *want* to keep writing too. So, I am going to share with you a work in progress as it's written.
Some of it may be rough, but it will be my writing and that's a GOOD thing.
Please feel free to leave comments as we go along. I will post a continuation of the story as often as I am able to. My goal is to do a little bit of writing every day.
So, let's begin....
It was near dusk when I came across Madam Rose’s Psychic Shoppe. It was not much more than a door tucked in between two other shops. I had always wondered what a psychic would have to say to me. The fact that this one was nearly hidden from public view only gave credibility to the advice I’d be given. I smiled at the thought of finally getting some long unanswered questions resolved.
I opened the creaky screen door and came upon a small set of stairs leading to the left. I took the three of four steps tentatively. They brought me to a wide open room with two small tables that were randomly placed. It took a minute for my brain to catch up with what my eyes already saw. The walls boasted large splotches of dark grey mildew spots, their edges yellowed over time.
The floor was covered with worn carpeting that must have been quite beautiful at one time. Now the pathways around the room were darkened and thin. Each table was covered with a cloth that looked like it had given up being pretty a long time ago.
“Can I help you?” I was asked.
“Oh, I didn’t see you over there,” I stated, straightening my posture and suit out of habit. “I am looking for a psychic.”
“Have you ever been to a psychic before?”
“No, this is my first time.”
“Crystal will be with you in a moment.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw a sneer. I started to become uneasy and picked at my manicured nails while questioning my reasons for being there. What kind of psychic used the name Crystal anyway? I was about to turn away but it was too late.
Crystal was a scary sight, her faded red hair standing on end as if she had been electrified. Her gait was smooth as her large body moved back and forth like a pendulum with every step. A mass this large ought to have bumpers attached, I thought. I can’t help it. I feel humorous when I’m nervous. Luckily the smile that played on my lips appeared as nothing more than a friendly gesture as Crystal jiggled before me.
“Well. . .this isn’t your everyday psychic reading, I can see that! What are you doing in a place like this pretty lady?” as her arm swung around my shoulders. She was touching my $400 Baldora suit with her grubby paws. Nothing that a quick side step to the right couldn’t handle. “Now, now, don’t be nervous. . . “ she continued.
Yeah, this was definitely a mistake. But, hey, I have already switched over to being humorous so this was nothing more than a game of words to me. “I’m not nervous.” I said as I straightened my posture and my jacket. “No?” she winked back.
Okay, this woman is a psycho not a psychic. This just keeps getting better and better. I flipped open my wallet and handed a wad of bills approximating $60 toward her outstretched paws. She counted the bills backward and forward and then returned her gaze to me. I no longer felt funny. I felt scared. “Will she know my secret?” kept playing it’s scratchy tune in my mind. I am tired of hearing this broken record. Of course she won’t know my secret. That’s ridiculous.
Crystal waddled to the nearest table and I sat too.