That Afternoon At The Psychic Fair – Fiction

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge.  Please follow little froggy for more stories.

Here is the photo and my story:

That Afternoon At The Psychic Fair

This particular month, for the first time in our valley, a psychic fair came to town.  Most people I knew thought this sort of thing was nuts, so I went to the fair  alone.

The air, all around the grounds, was scented with sandalwood incense.  The purple silks of one particular tent drew me in.  Consumed me with panels swaying in the breeze.  The psychic, within, looked so comforting.  We sat at her table and joined hands.

“What are you thinking?”

“She was such a beautiful little girl.  Her favorite color was purple.”

“Try to breathe now.  Evenly.  Deeply.  In. Out.”

“I don’t want to breathe!”  I shouted.  “I want my baby back!”

Ellespeth

thank you , Jade,  for our most unusual photo this week

20 thoughts on “That Afternoon At The Psychic Fair – Fiction

  1. A beautifully descriptive story, Ellespeth, with a beartbreaking final line. I hope the psychic manages to help her come to terms with her loss, even if she can’t bring her daughter back. Nicely done. 🙂

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  2. Oh, what a sad story. Your descriptions of the fair, with its scents of sandalwood and the silken purple tent are lovely and vivid. But the last line speaks volumes as to why she wanted/needed to visit the psychic fair. Her loss simply reaches out. Well written, Ellespeth.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks, Millie…
      Not being a parent myself, I can only imagine how it must feel to lose a child.
      I’ve been to a couple of these sorts of fairs…they are quite intoxicating with scents and atmosphere. Learned I had some Viking spirit guarding me…this wasn’t surprising – I’m a tough softie.
      Ellespeth

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    • It seems so many parents are able to say this these days….illness and random crimes and accidents.
      As I was first writing this, thought the ending was a bit dramatic. It’s grown on me.
      Ellespeth

      Like

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