“Till a voice, as bad as conscience, rang interminable changes on one everlasting; whisper day and night repeated--so: 'Something hidden. Go and find it.'” It was Kippling; and there was more, but she failed to remember it at the moment. She’d caught a ride with a local college student and they ended up in a dive bar, singing karaoke and taking shots with the regulars. She was forever chasing the easy distractions of the mundane; and in the blur of drink and smoke there was slurred laughter and she could swear she once even forgot about the dreams that ached without the aid of sleep. She retired to a hotel room with her new found companion, who passed out immediately. She flipped through the channels, finding nothing relevant. She touched at the lines of fate leading to and from the snoring boy next to her. She had learned how to gingerly prick a line and gain glimpses of knowledge without entirely consuming. The arcane sent an ecstatic tremble whenever she did so and would favor her with a glimpse of his past or future, sometimes it was hard to tell. He was a sweet boy and her smile was genuine caring, but she was a fickle thing and soon she was rolling a few spliffs. She eventually pulled the bedside table up to the bed and spent the night propped up; alternating between swigging a bottle of Carlo Rossi, smoking cigarettes and spliffs, and always toying with the cards. Occasionally she glanced at her two day old phone. She knew a text was coming. At first she thought she that this new nagging presence was because of her recent ventures. She’d been practicing, let’s say, tempting other people's fates in her favor; simple little nudges in a path that may benefit her own. She thought this was a punishment for that, at first. But she had begun to feel them, and the cards were leaning towards others. There was something else, and when the phone, whose number she had shared with no one, received a text there was no surprise. Her stomach fell a little, knotting with anxiety until she had taken a few strong pulls of the Carlo. She grabbed the phone from the bedside table and her face became unreadable. She was quiet and careful as she slipped out of the bed. The sun had yet to even kiss the horizon and the boy slept deeply, untroubled. She took a moment to appreciate the boy’s situation. Her own envy was buried beneath a superiority earned through medling. She brushed her teeth, all in as much silence as she could muster. She didn’t want to shatter the moment. She slipped into a front button knitted sweater that fell almost to her knees over a plain white t-shirt and jean cutoffs, shorter than the sweater. She pulled on some hiking boots sitting in a chair across from the bed. She took one last drink of the Carlo and grabbed a twenty from the boys wallet while placing a kiss on his forehead. He barely stirred as she grabbed her bulky hiker's pack and slipped out, easing the door closed. Once outside she glanced at the sun and took a deep breath. “So it begins…” [i]...it began so long ago.[/i] She forced a smile and headed towards Station 7. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By the time she found the place the sun was proudly glaring upon New York City. Janis Joplin shades attempted to protect eyes that were sensitive due to inebriation and lack of sleep. She’d been here before, when she first got to New York. She’d even had the pleasure of meeting Madame Jones, albeit briefly. One of her cousins from the old country did work for her from time to time. Vavara had felt the woman was like breathing in the most fulfilling breath while suffocating. Her nerves and the arcane and the moment were twitching beneath her skin as she smiled past the bouncer and found her way to the bar. She hoped this meeting with Madame Jones would be more delightful, though she heavily doubted it. Even thinking of the woman made her need a drink. So she found her way to the bar closest to the far back room where destiny awaited. It could wait a few more moments. “Beer and a shot of vodka please.” She batted lashes at the bartender, it was instinct because her eyes were still covered by the large sunglasses.