Re: In With the Fortune Teller
She looked at the web curiously, then back at the man sitting across from her. It was a little bit easier when she was weaving it for herself. She knew what her dreams were, she knew what she had been missing, what was broken and hanging from the corners of the room. She knew what was locked in the six shards of crystal on the table next to her. She knew what to weave in and out of a web, but if this wasn't hers how did she know she'd done it properly?
Her fingers shook timidly as they ran just so over the strands of silk as unique as a fingerprint, woven and dreamt into existence for the first time, the only time. Not by her it would seem, but by this man. A bead of sweat collected at her temples and between her breasts as she looked at the silver and gold specks dancing on the strands in the firelight of the room. Someone else's dream here in her hands, a dream she could take or break, she had woven it after all. All of hers hung broken in the corners here blowing in a breeze she couldn't feel. If she moved just so it would break, the strands would be useless and his dream would go the way hers had gone and be broken. Dreams were a delicate thing, he couldn't fault her for a little slip.
But she didn't slip, she didn't dare touch it, even if it had been hers she would have given it to him freely no coin necessary. There was no price on the door, no price on her dreams. No cost for her company, her door was open for a reason. Her dream would have been a gift, a gift to him for coming in. Maybe this was all his dream, maybe she was his dream and someone was thinking of her. But she didn't know or where or why. She smiled at the thought as her eyes continued to trail over the woven web. "It's a dream woven inside a dream. I didn't know I could do that. Did I dream you up? Or did you dream me up?"