A young girl around seven years old wearing a cherry red dress and blonde pigtails came skipping up to her booth, her chin barely reaching the counter.
“Hey lady!” The voice squeaked, as high pitched as the tilt a whirl’s annoying rendition of “It’s a Small World.” “Can you really tell the future?
Lavender cleared her throat and in not a very convincing Russian accent drawled, “Yes my dear, I can tell you your future, or anything you want for just two tickets.” The little girl handed over two blue “admit one” tickets that were tainted with a sticky cotton candy residue.
“Give me your hand.” The little girl placed her hand over the counter as she nervously chewed her pigtail.
“What the hell?” Lavender thought to herself. The coolness of the child’s hand seemed to melt her own spider veined one. Her thoughts faded out one by one, as images formed in her mind. The carnival was gone, even the nicotine addiction had ceased to claw at her subconscious. The images were appearing and disappearing rapidly. A couple walking. A piano. A church. An empty liquor bottle. A wheelchair. Lavender yanked her hand away. She frowned as the blinking lights and the girl’s yellow pigtails bobbing in front of her came back into focus. She bent over the counter and whispered in her customer’s ear….
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