Raindrops rolled down the window of the coffee shop like tears, creating tracks, and webs where two drops would connect and then split apart again. The girl sitting at the window absently sipped at her frozen coffee drink while looking through the beaten-up backpack on the table.
"Wait... what? What in the heck? Where'n the heck did these come from?" she muttered to herself as she pulled out something that most definitely should not have been there. A beaten-up pack of tarot cards.
Being inquisitive, she opened the box the deck came in, and began to sift through the cards themselves. Intricately detailed and very beautiful, the cards seemed to breathe with a life of their own. Sometime during her slow perusal of the cards, she found herself wishing her coffee drink tasted better... and the next card she looked at had the image of a cup on it. Shrugging, she pulled it out, and laid it on the table.
Feeling silly as she watched the card just sitting there, she was surprised when the card suddenly formed itself into a cup to mimic the one already on her table, filled with slushy tan liquid. The last bit of the card sparked and elongated into a straw, settling itself into the cup. Skeptical, she lifted the cup and took a sip of the liquid inside.
"Holy crap!" she exclaimed as she greedily slurped at the delicious coffee drink.
Grabbing up the cards and slinging her backpack over one shoulder, she hurriedly made her way to the bus stop in the hopes of getting home soon to test out the cards further.
Over the next several days she experimented, finding that whatever she focused on, when she used one of the cards, that thing happened. In the end, she fashioned herself a flying disk and a costume, intending to head out and fight some crime in her rather poor neighborhood.
Her first night out was almost a slapstick comedy. She ended up tangling a cop in a net, turned a car into a flowerpot... and not the car she'd been chasing... and dousing the lobby of a police station in partially liquified lime jello.
Not exactly a successful first night out, but it wouldn't dissuade her. She continued to practice, realizing that becoming distracted at the last moments was what had foiled her that first night. It took a few months before she was able to keep herself from becoming distracted, but soon she was out once more, fighting the baddies.
This time she was successful. No more turning people into living confetti or other strange things. She was now a fully-functioning heroine.
During the day she went to her college classes and acted like a normal girl. At night, though, she became something different. Something better.
Checking her slim backpack to make sure she had what she needed, Rose grinned and tossed a card down to her feet. It exploded silently into a swirl of colors, coalescing around her in a costume. Another card tossed to the side became her flying disk. She climbed aboard, slinging her backpack onto her back, and willed the disk up off the floor of her balcony. She flew off into the night looking for trouble. No longer was she simply Rose Williamson... she was now Tarot Rose. Protector of those who couldn't protect themselves.
You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, "Why not?"
George Bernard Shaw (1856 - 1950)
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