alternativewriting

The day was warm and humid; the sun shinning, beating against everything and everyone. It rose from the cement choking people attacking from both sides. Sweat bottled over them and sent them seeking shade, ice cream and cold water. There were always people who braved the heat, strolling in the parks, splashing in fountains and still walking the streets despite everything. Usually they weren't wearing a thick coat, shirt and pants. But the Fool did so, wearing his motley coat, bottle green and multicolored patches plus his matching top hat.

Sitting on sheet he spread out his tarot cards, smiling at people as the walked by, "Tell your fortune?" he'd ask voice tantalizing and enticing. "Dollar for three cards, five for full reading." Despite the angel of his seat in the sun, his shadow still spread out behind him. People didn't notice it, of course. Because shadows didn't do that, of course.

He enjoyed telling people's fortunes, even if he didn't always tell the ones people wanted to hear. Sometimes he'd tell the ones that he thought people he should have setting them off on different paths than they might have. It made have annoyed the Wanderer but he still did it. He never completely changed their fates - that wasn't what he could do. He could just send them in a direction that could end up with them in an utterly humiliation before their life changed for the better.

Theoretically.

In every situation people could chose their own path. He just planted the seeds.