“That’s gross, Stacy,” Jodi chided as her sister bent to retrieve the spun sugar at her feet.
“I spent my last two dollars on this.” Stacy cried, reaching for the melting blue mess just as a woman stepped out from the booth across the aisle. She stood looking at them from under a sign that read “Psychic” in flowery letters. A six-sided star with graceful arching motion lines above and behind it, dotted the “i” in Psychic. The woman was plump, and wore a dress with a kerchief hem that was multiple shades of pink, red and purple.
“Are you girls all right?” the woman asked. She held a stack of ornately designed card in her hands.