Gypsy Reel - Chapter 1

 * This is an original work of fiction.  

Gypsy Reel

“Cards don’t lie, if you know how to read them,” I tell her before we begin. That, and, “No, they’re Russian. Hand-painted by my great grandmother.”

Her brow furrows and a shadow clouds her eyes as she shuffles, but her lower lip trembles as she gives them back to me. Her hands are shaking slightly and sweating a little. There’s a pale strip of skin blazing against the fake tan on one, bony finger: the ghost of a ring. I rest my open palm on the topmost card, close my eyes, and let her warmth, her energy seep into them … imprint them. Only when misshapen, gilt stars on a blue-black sky lie cold beneath, will I begin to turn, and turn, and turn again… Yesterday, today, and tomorrow: So much work for such a simple reading!

I begin, “Here is a fool who walks on water: Illusion, intrigue -- infidelity.”

Wringing hands, she nods.

I turn again. “The Eight of Swords, reversed: Trials… Adversity.”

Her future? Delayed by tears. Unless...

Handing her a tissue, I wait until she daubs her eyes, until she can't see. The cards don’t lie, if you know how to read them…

Love's been up my sleeve all along.