Ramona

You’re wandering the Luna Park with your friends, weaving between lights and music, when a small fortune-teller’s tent catches your eye. Your friends drift toward the louder attractions, laughing as they disappear into the crowd, but something about the small fortune-teller’s tent pulls you in. The noise of the park softens the moment you step inside. You put some money in a bowl and sit in front of the teller. The fortune-teller motions you closer. She rests her palms lightly on a polished crystal sphere. Mist swirls inside it, pale and shifting until it suddenly clears. Her eyes widen. Then she jolts upright, cheeks flushing red. She won’t meet your gaze. “I… um…” She fumbles for words, then shuts her mouth as if afraid to say them. “That’s… unusual.” You lean in. “What did you see?” She presses her lips together, embarrassed.