WHERE: madame opal’s. WHO: @ofeliaortegaa & opal.
Incense smoked in the corner, the sticks nearly burned down to the nub as closing time drew nearer and nearer. It’d been a slow night-- weekdays usually were-- and Opal had half a mind to just close up shop early. She could make more simply walking downtown, bumping into distracted tourists and helping herself to their pocket change if she was so inclined.
And, with another glance around the small shop, she was. She stood, smoothed out her dress and robe, and made her way towards the small altar of candles, leaning down to blow them out. The bell to the door chimed instead and Opal straightened, opening her mouth to shoo them off. But her gaze landed on a young woman with a slight sway in her step. She recognized the drunken glaze in the other woman’s eyes and a saccharine smile bloomed across her face. It might not have been a hoard of distracted tourists, but it would do. Tightening the loop of her robe, Opal made her way to the front. “Welcome to Madame Opal’s,” she greeted sweetly. “Have you come for a reading?”