23 July 2012
Preface;
Her fingers glide over the man's rough palms. She exhales, making the least bit of noise. The room is filled with a musky smell that clings to the air, but never shifts. "Hm..." she murmurs, a rasp in her voice, along with a thick Irish accent, "who was she?"
"Who was who?" the man questions.
"The woman you cheated on your wife with," the woman smirks, "Who was she?"
"That's absurd! How- Why would I cheat on my wife?" he asks, his voice rising to a shout.
"You came for advice, so that's what I'm to give you. Now who is she?" repeats the woman.
The man heaves a sigh and pulls his hands away from the center of the table. He props his elbows on the edge of the surface and leans his head in his palms, face down. "Her name is Elisa."
"Ah, so I was correct." she smirks, withdrawing her hands and placing them in her lap, "So what is it that you need? What sort of advise?"
"Will my wife find out?" he asks, glancing up at the young fortune teller.
"If you do not stop, yes. She will." the girl crosses her legs beneath the fire coloured skirt she wears.
The man exhales and runs his hand along his jaw. "How much do I owe?" he asks, after a moment of contemplation.
"Eight shillings." she states, leaning back against the rickety wooden chair.
"That's absurd!" the man cries.
"What's absurd is that you'd cheat on your wife." she shoots back, keeping her composure entirely, "Eight shillings."
With a defeat sigh, the man reaches for his pocket, pulls out a few thin coins and tosses them on the table. The woman scrapes them up and tucks them away in a hidden box under the table. The man stands and pushes the door open, walking into the cool air.
A younger man, about the fortune teller's age steps inside the old creaky shack. Fine, white blonde hair frames his face. His eyes are big, and sky blue. A smirk tugs at his lips. "You!" the young woman cries, standing abruply.
"Me," he replies, a devilish grin on his face.
The Devil's Twins • Opuss № I