Cards

The light went on outside of the tiny mother-in-law's apartment; the "Carol's in her Cups with Cards" sign took on a soft, warm glow from the amber light. Three people were already waiting in the street. "First time?" Reed Ketchum asked a very nervous-looking Monica Charles; she nodded. "Well, it's going to be fine; when Carol hits the sauce, it's a thing of wonder." "It sounds kind of tragic," Monica whispered, looking down at her feet. "It's strangely necessary or she can't channel," Reed explained (and Selby Watts moved closer to them so that he could hear the conversation). "A couple of nights each week (typically Thursday and Friday), Carol does her thing ... and it's an incredible thing. The scary part is that it's accurate - all of it, the good and the bad. I've been coming for two years now, and she's never been wrong." "Never?!?" Monica and Selby asked at the same time, incredulous. "Never," Reed confirmed quietly. Carol waved the first patron in, giving them a big smile through the screen door (her hair was wild and she was still wearing her kitchen apron). Monica stepped forward at Reed's insistence, although he was first in line. "You're only wearing one sock," Monica said (once inside) and Carol giggled, inviting her to sit. As Monica settled in, Carol belched loudly, cracked her knuckles, and shouted, "BUCKLE UP, BUTTERCUP!" The readings (all of them would say later) were freaking game changers.