The paranormal, magic and realism story is entry #4.
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“Where are you headed?”
Carm answered without looking at her, “Home.”
“I’m going to the Witches Fair. There will be so many one-of-a kind pagan-made items for all spellcraft and ritual needs. Would you come with me? It is a short walk away.”
With a strong sniff, Carm cleared her nostrils. “I plan to take tonight to relax and chill,” she said stubbornly.
“The Witches Fair may seem trivial now, but the information given to you may be important.”
“I don’t want to be with people tonight.”
“Please, Carm. Come. I would like to share the experience with you. There will be astrologers, angel readings, tarot readers, numerologists, palm readers, past lives, free lectures, and so much more.”
“I don’t want to revisit my past. That part of my life is gone. All I have is here and now.”
“You planned to share your life with your husband. Then one day, the relationship ended. Losing a loved one is devastating. You need support with your overwhelming loss. You need hope. Maybe a psychic advisor can help you to come to terms with your loss and receive information for a brighter tomorrow.”
“I’ve learned to live without my husband,” she murmured, annoyed.
“A reading may help you focus on a goal that you are not aware of,” she persisted.
“Fine,” Carm agreed.
Gretchen looked delighted. “Shall we go?”
Carm gave her a slight nod.
Gretchen clutched at her collar, walking in the cool breeze. Carm followed and nervously chain-smoked.
“We are here,” Gretchen announced, walking to the huge, glass doors.
In the lobby, Carm’s shoes sank into a lavish, red carpet. She caught a glimpse of her pale face reflected in the mirrored pillars as she walked to the elevators. She looked like hell. The two entered the fourth floor foyer. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the dingy city. They walked through an open doorway. The room was illuminated by lights set in the walls. She saw, opposite the doorway, that booths lined the vast room. Some merchants wore the most outlandish colored hair and clothes, all displayed their pentacles with pride and burned smudge sticks. Some offered tarot readings, others beautiful handmade crafts. Artistically-minded people mixed and mingled. A buzz of conversation could be heard from the crowd.
Gretchen’s voice was vibrant with emotion. “Wonderful. Orientation is just beginning. Come, join me.”