A small table draped in blood-red velvet sat in the center of the small enclosure.
A thick Turkish rug covered the brittle, brown August grass and swags of colorful silk festooned the sidewalls and ceiling, ropes of twinkling LED lights camouflaged within the folds. The inside of the tent lived up to all my expectations. If the Erickson boys were at the carnival, they were enjoying their own night out, not watching over their baby sister. The even bigger treat? Not a single one of my older brothers was tailing me. My parents didn't approve of psychic nonsense, but they'd allowed me to come to the carnival with Allie's family as a pre-birthday treat. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.įor more about WDM Publishing, please visit our web site at Ī shiver of anticipation raced along my spine as Allie and I ducked inside the fortune-teller's tent. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction, in whole or in part in any form.
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