Write about feeling lost in the crowd.
I walk cocooned in a bubble through the noise, the laughter, the screams and all the fun-of-the-fair. No one touches me, my way made clear, the sea of faces parting as I approach, keen to get out of my way, to not hinder my path. My destiny unknown. A hand gently halts my progress. I turn. Looking deep into my soul, she tells me wordlessly that she’s been waiting. I follow her to the Romany caravan, a mixture of the ancient and the new and cut the pack of tarot cards she offers me. Maybe now, all will become clear.