Wednesday 2 February 2011

The day after the night before...

Tuesday night was eventful given the nature of my mission, reading in the depths of Fairford Leys, the van was welcomed and I even ended up giving directions to a hooded urchin on a mountain bike! The poor lad was lost in the warren that is Fairford and sheepishly he approached me map in hand scribbled on a sheet of blue paper. Unfortunately I had barely made it there myself relying on route finder an old faithful printed off the computer. Who would have know the bravery of a youngster to approach a stranger with a van branded with 'Psychic Medium' perhaps he thought my 'powers' extended to suburban navigation.  We had a pleasent exchange and bid each other safe journey and good night, I am sure we will stay imprinted on each others minds for some time to come.

Setting up I was approached again, out of the darkness came a small woman slightly lit by the light of a dim street light she cautiously asked for a leaflet, I of course ill equipped rummaged through the various bits and bobs and found a dog eared flyer for classes I run. I brandished my details proud at my find to an equally chuffed smiley face.'My friend is into all of this' She chirped 'She would love that' Pointing to the inside of my van. I smiled and assured her that her friend was welcome anytime and bid her goodbye. The readings came and went, the chill of the night barely registering as I worked away to get the much needed info and contact they requested. You never know if you have done a 'good job' by looking at the faces of some, they are often taken aback from the experience and always left with much to reflect upon so I resign myself to the knowing I feel inside that I did just right.

As my clients slid the door open and said their thanks with smiling faces they commented on the ever increasing temperature dip and the closing in of the weather which now was complete with fog fit to be named a 'pea souper'. I shut down the inverter and lowered my table giving thanks to the space and the divine and its helpers for a nights good grace. Gently I slipped ono the drivers seat and reversed into the night carefully spinning her round for the journey home.

With every mile the fog built till for the first time in my life apprehension drew at the drive home. I gathered myself and let a car behind overtake. With intuition heightened and wicked night vision I steadily drove through the Buckingham countryside back to base. As the fog lifted as i neared my home town the radio blared this tune filling my heart with nostalgia and erasing the tension of the trip, my hands lightly gripped the wheel of my old faithful and I let my voice ring loud 'Theres whiskey in the jar'o'

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