Reginald parked
by the side of the road and comfortably stepped down from his 4x4. This
‘whatever-it-is’ he stared at was nothing like he expected. The flimsy stalls,
roofed in brightly colored sheets, looked more like a County Fair than some
gypsy thing. “This is not like in the movies...” he thought.
“I’m the
Investigative Magistrate here in Bruël,” Reginald said, extending his hand
towards Dante. “I know you don’t need a permit in these parts of town but I
like to get acquainted when someone new comes around to visit.” he continued.
They shake hands. “I’m glad you’ve come by. Please, take a look around, it may
dispel the terrible rumors that follow our gypsy tribes.” Dante leads him to
the stalls.
It was busy
time for the gypsies, setting up tables, setting up cloth dividers that create private
spaces for consultations. Signs were hung on tiny nails that appeared to have
rusted in place. “How long do you expect to stay Mr. Dante?” he asked without
looking at Dante. “Our clientele is like a wave that peaks very quickly and
soon peters out. Sometimes we’re lucky and stay around for a while.” Dante
answered. Reginald wasn’t listening. The sign read: Good Luck Amulets and the young lady who stood beneath, is
preciously beautiful.
“That’s my
grand niece on my wife’s side, Kalina.” Dante explained.
(To Be Continued.)
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