Who: Esme and Ella What: A chance meeting. Where: Ninth floor hallway. When: This evening Warnings: ...crazy lady/literary lady? Probably not. WARNINGS FOR CRAZINESS AND LITERARY ALLUSIONS.
Esme was going to the grocery store.
An epic feat for her, considering her general state for the past month and change. She had a sister now, a sister whose presence still surprised her every time she walked into the room. She would see her and need to remind herself who she was. Sibling, a foreign concept. Followed everywhere by that doll with its suspicious little eyes. She didn't like it. It seemed duplicitous, and it had a nasty tendency to yammer at her every time it came close, call her names, call her witch. Annoying little bastard.
The sister, Ileana, she needed to eat. And while Esme did just fine eating whatever was available to her, her sister ought to have real food. It reminded Esme that she generally had a ravenous appetite, and when she chased that thread, of when she'd stopped eating aside from what was necessary to survive, she followed it back a month and then stopped. She didn't want to go there.
She kept her mind in the present. Her sister needed to eat. She had money, yes, but not enough to last forever. She'd need to start working again. She wondered what the visions would tell her about her clients, what she'd be able to tell them now that she could never tell them with just a deck of tarot at her beck.
She took the stairs down. She still looked tangled and disheveled, but she'd actually remembered to wear a coat out, which was an improvement. A woman caught her eye, off to the side, exiting her apartment, and she slowed to watch her. People tended to dart away when she watched them--whether it was because she told them things they didn't want to hear or they saw something in her long stare that they didn't like, she wasn't sure.