Nadia waited for a customer to count his change and stared at the muddy haze of people moving through the festival. He handed her a hairbrush with shaking hands and she forced a smile. “Is this her hair?” she asked. He nodded. She took strands of hair from the hairbrush and sewed it to a voodoo doll. She stuck the center of it’s stomach with a pin. “Here” she said, handing him the doll. Nadia was wearing a dusty dress that she found in the back of her closet. She did not feel charmed by the friendly atmosphere tonight. There was anxiety about being alone but she reminded herself that she had to learn to hold her own hand, and to find security within herself. She flipped the sign hanging on her booth to the side that said “closed”. She put a cigarette in her mouth and lifted the heavy box of her things, walking quickly to her car. Her grip loosened and the box slipped through her fingers. Soil, pendulums, candles, lavender, salts and voodoo dolls spilled onto the street.The crowed moved around her, avoiding the mess she had just made. She knelt down onto the warm pavement and began to put back the broken pieces into the box.
