I shuffled the deck. Ambient light enveloped the foggy mist obscuring the landing. Misfortune floated up the steps, sword in hand. In the distance, I could hear the weeping and gnashing of teeth. I peeked at the next two cards. The Devil and The Tower. What to do?
I shuffled the deck. The fog returned, thicker, whiter, cleaner. Temperance shimmered through, briefly. She was holding a ball of red yarn. I looked at the next two cards. The Lovers and The Hanged Man. Much better.
I shuffled the deck—last chance. The fog dissipated. Jessica sat at the vanity, caressing her hair with my gift. Static electricity sparked from the ivory bristle brush to her olive neck. If the next two cards did not return us to yesterday, then that lovely throat would soon be spurting her life’s blood.