6.6 Chekhov's Gun

Donovan, Melissa (2012-02-04). 101 Creative Writing Exercises (Adventures in Writing) (p. 101). . Kindle Edition.

My wand and my tarot deck was all I needed when I walked into the store.

"Darcy," I called.  

A stocky woman came out from the back.  I could see a tiny color TV on back there - how was she getting any stations, I wondered.  

She closed the curtain behind her, hiding the TV from view.  "Alicia," she cried, and came around the glass case that held all kinds of smoking paraphanelia - pipes and water bongs and rolling papers.  She came around and hugged me tight.  "I'm so glad, it's been how long?"

"Over twenty years," I said, smiling.  "I'm glad you reopened your shop."

"What do you think?"  She motioned to the side, showing me the different goddess idols on the wall, candles, tarot cards, books, calendars, incense - everything a budding witch would want.  The smoking stuff was her bread and butter - the metaphysical stuff was what she really wanted to sell.

"I think you did an awesome job decorating."

"It was my partner," she said.  "Remember Mina?"

"Yes.  You're still with her?"

"Oh no, she was a psycho.  No, I'm with a new one now, her name is Anna.  She's from France."

"Ooh la la," I said, laughing.  

Darcy laughed too, putting a hand on my arm.  "Do you still read?"

I held up the tarot deck in my little leather pouch.

"Oooh!  Will you read me?"

"That's why I brought them," I said, and took out the cards, leaving the wand inside.  "I was going to ask if you needed a reader on Saturdays."

"Could you?  That would be great.  The usual cut?"

"I get two thirds and can order from the store book at the warehouse price."

"Perfect," she said with a smile.  "Okay, read me!"

I started shuffling. 

The End

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