a writer's fortune

[August Keller]

August didn't usually attend these things, but it appeared as though the entire Marston family were going, and it would be silly if he remained on the farm all alone- he wouldn't be able to accomplish much that way. Naturally, he still managed to remain mostly to himself, people-watching as he walked through the faire, smiling warmly at the antics of others. The farmhand was slowly getting the urge to write again- write anything, but that was the very problem. He didn't know what. He often felt that it didn't matter, so long as he got words down and exercised his mind...yet, lately, everything was quiet. The pages remained blank. Maybe getting out, doing something besides work would get the creative juices flowing.

So, when he saw the fortune teller's tent, he paused in front of it. He wasn't a very superstitious kind of fellow, but he was curious. And this was just for fun, right? None of this could possibly be real...and he hoped the woman didn't sense this from him as he slowly and cautiously stepped inside. "Um...hello," he said quietly, awkwardly offering her a bit of a wave. August finally took a seat at the table, immediately glancing over at the flickering candle.

[ spread 2 ]