Exotic Dancer Of The Indian Cloud

”Shall we then?Penelope unfolds her arms and pushes at the door. Inside it is dark, the only light coming from where she stands, the outside. “Pre...ty dark in here,” she whispers. “Maybe we should find a torch or something.”Or you can use that little light trick you know.“Oh, right,” she whispers.Why are you whispering?The witch shrugs. “It just felt right,” she says, still whispering.Well stop it. Whoever is here probably already knows we’re here.“Why do you say that?”Isn’t that how it usually. Some people had bought snacks from the store, one cluster of hipsters ravaging a box of granola bars, but for the most part they loitered. The store attendant looked on the sudden crowd in a daze, as though she was trying to determine whether or not she was in a dream.Rick paced the store. There were a few other singletons there, generally strange-looking men with ​haunted eyes, although those might have been vagrants off the street. They didn't make Rick feel better. Ah well. Who cared what. More

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