A Story by Casper Dumass Lecroix

posted it on my home writing site wanted to try it here


No- Names

A woman, immaculate in her appearance, dressed in a bright red strapless top, black skirt and matching stockings and designer high heel boots sits in a park bench alone. The large jacket that wraps around her from shoulder to shoulder takes the edge off of the brutal English cold that beats upon her freckled face and sends her red hair flying to the west. Why does she sit alone? She think deeply about her lavish life, being the daughter of a rich businessman the way she was, was a sign of happiness in life, and yet she always feels alone. Why could she never shake this uneasy air around her?

The street lights flicker on, a signal that night has begone. The woman's world was now set into the witching hour, meaning it'd be best if she started for home. She glanced at her black Mercedes parked in the row of cars beside the park, and thought the wonderful idea of speeding down the roads as if the constable would simply ignore the actions of a freshly made twenty-two year old.

"Oh! That's right," the woman said aloud in a jolt of shock. She had forgotten the reason she came to the park in the first place. Her boyfriend was planning a surprise party for her. He has always been so very thoughtful. She couldn't bare to crumble his dreams and admit that she had already seen the preparations being set the morning before, so she decided to allow the farce to continue without disruption. As the woman thinks over her ten year relationship with her ever caring, loveable, masculine boyfriend and she feels the ever annoying painful grip of guilt pinch her in her sides and stomach.

"What's wrong with me?" Another whisper from the English ruby shinning now in the night like a crimson star peaking from far off in the distance. Her thoughts, now focused on her periodic infidelity. It was sin that she, at times felt was overlook-able in the since that the other partner meant little to nothing to her other than a pair of sheets to lie beneath to gain a sense of calm when her hubby to be spend his long nights at the harbor working. Nevertheless the guilt and pain of this secret remained ever vigilant in her mind. As her phone began to buzz with the signal of a text message she realized that it was now time to go back to the apartment she had begged her father to allow her to live in. How many nights had her father argued with her about that apartment.

"Sweetums, I've told you a thousand times I don't want you over there. What's wrong with living here in a mansion. Most people would die for the life you have and you are putting in danger just to live in some dumpy sod of a place." He'd rage about her choice. It took to bottles of scotch and a couple of, rather coercive, nights with her mother to make her father relent and allow her to move into the apartments with the middle class tenants and high crime rate. Why had she wanted to live here so badly?

In any case it was time to go. The woman grabbed her purse and scanned for her keys until as if out of thin air a woman plopped down next to her. She was too exotic to be from anywhere in this world but her Indian features were to damned able. The woman looked up from her purse and looked deep into the new arrival. He thick curly black her, her large yellow cat like eyes, the nose of a true Indian, long and smooth, the lush lips covered in the shining allure of some extravagant gloss. A golden dot was on her forehead, and her black silk blouse flickered like fire as the wind blew, along with the black pinstripe pants that hugged her hips and buttocks so softly, lustfully that it'd make any man's mouth water with the most sincere burning passion he'd faint. The only odd thing of this beauteous woman was that she carried with her a deck of expensive looking tarot card and that in the f**k all middle of England nights she was without a coat or sweater.

"Have I kept you long my dear?" The woman looked at her as she gathered her things and put them to the floor, allowing any thought of leaving blow away with the cold tormenting air.

"No!, Not at all." The ruby shake her head and her freshly painted red nails as if halting a speeding car. "I don't have to be anywhere just yet."

"Okay," She says with a chuckle. "Are you ready to begin?" The woman does the casino expert trick of shooting the cards from one hand to the other.

"Yes, I'd love to." She nodded with the most nervous of smiles.

Why was she hear? A woman of her heritage, of her social standing, here in a park with this exotic beauty sitting with a deck of magic fortune telling cards. "Funny is it not?" the fire haired woman thought. "I'm not even sure if I believe in magic and here I am about to have my future told to me like the morning news, well night news."

After a terrifyingly difficult shuffle trick the woman slaps the deck onto the bench and says... "Pick a card, any card" mockingly, and so she does. When she draws the middle card of the deck she looks deep into the character of the "Hanged Man." She feels dread at the picture of a man strung upside down wearing a goofy blue shirt and red pants.

"What does this mean?" with a pinch of fear

"It is the card of sacrifice. You will have to lose to gain." The woman smile, her shimmering lips stretched across her face, her eyes opened and glimmering as they reflect the street lights above head.

"Is that good?" Her soft pale fingers grip the card.

"That depends on you dear. I can only tell you the card, not the exact application." Odd how her talk is like magical science, or scientific magic. Either way the woman shrugs and places the card back into the deck. How very short the meeting was. One card for one coin, was the deal they'd struck two days ago at the fashion store.

As the fortune teller shuffled her deck once more she smiled to her client with the pleasure of services rendered. She shot her cards over her head from one hand and into the other then shoved them into a card case on her belt, which shocked and amazed the red queen in front of her. After her theatrics she rose from her seat and threatened to leave until her and was snared.

"Do you have to go right away?" She asked like a child being left at the playground by her friends.

"Do you have anymore need of me?" Her eyes closed in the most endearing smile anyone could ever have been presented with.

"Well I, um.." Her words began to escape her mind.

"What's wrong?" Her head tipped to the side.

"Will you teach me about the cards?" She asked in a forfeit, not being able to discover her true words.

"I could, but I'd rather do that at my home over a cup of coffee." She said as if she understood the woman's mind. How troubled she was, how much she dreaded the thought of being alone or going back to her home to fake being surprised by her boyfriend and their colleague, being that she had so few she would call friends.

"Okay!" She couldn't hide her excitement as she lept from the bench and went to her car with the woman.

At the woman's house the red diamond of a woman left her jacket and embraced the warmth of the kitchen. The heat that was shunned from the outsides cold. She looked around the living room to see not a single photograph or any sign that anyone lived here other than a couch. She didn't own a computer or a television set. It was like an Amish home.

"How long have you lived here?" She asked to kill the silence. Her host had went to her room to take off her heels because they were "killing her"

"Only recently, I move around a lot, you know for work reasons." The woman loudly spoke from her room. "Make yourself comfortable. The coffee is ready so pour yourself a cup." She truly was a fortune teller. As sure as she said it the pot of coffee signaled like a train on its course and startled her.

As the woman sat on the scarlet and gold Indian couch and sipped from the bitter black hazelnut brew she felt the surge of caffeine ripple through her body. She had never liked sweets, she much preferred bitter dark chocolate and mid night oil colored coffees. An odd trait of such a bubbly young woman such as herself. After the third sip of coffee the woman appeared from the back room wearing a black tank-top and black silken panties that hugged her bottom the way the pants did. She sat beside her guest and tied her hair into a ponytail, poking out her full chest.

"So where shall we begin?" She said gracefully like an angel. What was happening?

"Um, I don't know. I was hoping..." From left field a kiss was placed on her lips that would melt any man to putty. She sat enthralled and shocked until pushing the woman off. "I'm sorry I... I think you misunderstood..." A single finger was placed on her lips.

"I understand. You feel lonely." Bingo! right in the mark thought the crimson dynamo. "It's okay to be different." the yellow eyes pierced straight away into her soul.

"But I'm... I have a boy....." She stopped to catch her thoughts. "I have a boyfriend and he's really good to me, and..." tears streamed. She had never confided in a fling before, then again no fling has ever been sober enough or cared enough to speak before or after the encounter. "I just want... I c..." Her speech chopped like a scratched record, and in the midst of her confusion another more forceful, more passionate kiss took her and she began to cling to the other woman. Their grips grew tighter and tighter until he pushed away one final time.

"I want to be understood." The words came out strangely. Who had ever spoken that way other than in old plays?

"I'll understand you if you promise me yourself." There it was again. The odd speak. The old speak, but as soon as she'd noticed it she'd forgotten as her host began to kiss her chest from center to shoulder. "Do you?" She asked on, kissing her lightly.

She couldn't think anymore. What she desired most was right before her, could you blame her for grasping it? "Yes, yes I do!" She said as she began to writhe beneath the woman and place her own sequence of kisses on her body until she saw an odd ominous glow from her eyes. A green glow from the eyes of the one who understands.

When had awaken she lay on the couch naked under a sheet and a note was on her belly. They had made love and slept till morning. The note read...

"Last night was splendid, I am was elated to complete our contract, I will return to see you sometime please enjoy yourself until then and always remember... I understand you.

Sincerely Yours: The Sly Trickster"

As she sat up unbelieving she noticed to marking resembling a bird leaving it's cage on her stomach. She had been tricked into some magical contract, sold her soul for understanding and yet in all she did not hold any ill will to this person. For once in her life she feels understood. The woman snuggles close to the note in the sheet and drifts into dreams of the woman the night before.

© 2012 Casper Dumass Lecroix

Author's Note

Casper Dumass Lecroix
I have purposely left names out of this work, say what you think or feel. hope you liked it.

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Added on October 5, 2012
Last Updated on December 6, 2012
Tags: magic, trick, false, tarot, freedom, kust, sex


Casper Dumass Lecroix
Casper Dumass Lecroix

Houston, TX

Think, I've finally figured what I want to put here. I'm just some dude whose been writing ever since I picked up (was forced to read by a lady with a ruler) Green Eggs and Ham, which led to Uncanny X.. more..