Red - Creative Story

It was like walking into someone’s heart; everything was red. The carpet, the curtains, the couch against the embroidered wallpaper, even the satin cushions gathered around a low table.

Although she had seen it before, the parlour still came as a surprise to Claire.

The front room being so dimly lit made her involuntarily blink her eyes, adjusting her vision. The only light was coming from the open doorway. The room beyond detained a strong scent of incense. The outlining light revealed bead curtains hanging from the doorframe. Their colour so rich they appeared to be bleeding.

The hangings rattled like shutters in a storm as a lady in her mid-forties entered the room. Her skin resembled a faint olive shade and her clothing, the pigment of ashen-white, stood out against the red surroundings. She wore no jewellery, nevertheless her lobes showed evidence of two punctures. Her hair however was as black as soot and seemed like stubble straw.

She made a movement with her arms, indicating the table and surrounding cushions.

Claire plumped down on the overstuffed cushions, which spat puffs of dust around her, making her cough instinctively.

On one end of the table, sitting on a silver stand was a crystal ball. The sphere appeared to have never been used as Claire noticed specks of dirt and dust casing it. The other side of the table had the stack of tarot cards, the reason Claire had come.

The woman, now sitting opposite Claire fanned the cards and held them face down. Aware of the process Claire ran her fingers obediently over the cards.

Selecting one at random, she held it out. The card, cold to the touch, possessed an image thick with real paint. Captured on the card was a tower. A tower pitched atop a rocky mountain. Strikes of lightening pierced the tower, igniting flames around the windows. Clouds of misfortune hung in the background as grey as the mane of a grandfather. The artistry was beautiful.

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