Snippet #2735124

Angela had been uncharacteristically withdrawn since they had all been at the farmhouse. She introduced herself, stating that she was born in November, and spent a great deal of the trip either chatting idly or gazing into the distance. It was still a lot to take in. And, even for someone who believed it all the night before, it was still a bit jarring. She spoke little, which was a rare event in and of itself, but remained close to the group.

Choosing not to explore too much, she stayed at her room in the inn. At least she was a bit safer there. Probably. It also gave her time to indulge in some of her more private activities. She doubted many would have the same occult appreciation as she did.

She took a deep breath, shuffling the tarot deck with the efficiency of experience. The cards were new, and so a bit more difficult to work with, but they would bend in time. Closing her eyes, she chose her cards and lay them down carefully. She flipped them, revealing their faces and a message as confusing as the very foreign streets she had chosen not to travel that day. Major arcana, swords, cups. It was all a blur of possibilities that she couldn’t translate. Was her head too foggy? Was today just a bad day to throw? Angela rubbed her temples, trying to rid herself of the headache that was beginning to form.

Maybe if she just tried again.

She reshuffled. She put them down again. And, a bit anxiously, she began to reveal them one by one.