A Promised Reading

I had met him sometime back, an introduction not of names, but faces. He seemed interested in my cards and I had promised him a reading when next we met. I always keep my promises.

I approached him, with one thing on my mind, to read, fulfill my obligation and get back to my daughter. Leaving her is always something I find difficulty in and I try to not do it for any length of time, but I can hardly be expected to take her with me to.. work, as much as I might like to.

I find him a sobering man, a man who smiles as little as I do. A man with demons he keeps hidden, as do we all.

The cards were brought forth, he laying down a notepad so that my cards would not absorb any moisture from beneath. Never had this happened before, another being concerned with the protection of my artifacts. In a strange way, I was touched by the proaction of his offer.

Nine of Cups, The Kur and the Five of Swords. All in all, not the best reading he could have been granted, but neither was it the worst. He seemed to understand, even if I did not.

He paid me more than I had asked for, even handing me a card with his name and address on it, as well as a date. A date that I would assume he wished his next reading. I will, of course, oblige.