It's not the butterfly that matters; it's the fool who steers his ship into the storm that has an effect on everything. Of course, such subtlety was lost on Faylee Morrison, as she put the finishing touches on the secret formula for the goop that she hoped would supplant the toxic paint industry.
Katie was surprised to find just one gift on the coffee table. Normally, her parents would never refuse her requests for a mountain of birthday presents. She felt as if she were being penalized for turning fifteen. She shuffled dispiritedly toward the lone offering.
The first thing Katie noticed about the box was the tape. Never, in the history of gift-giving, had her parents ever used so much of the stuff. She looked for her mother's unique tuck fold and sighed in disbelief to find that the whole cube appeared to be covered with shreds of previously used gift wrap, held together with all that disgusting tape.
"They must be trying to confuse me," Katie allowed a spark of hope that the real gifts were hidden elsewhere.
How prescient …
I shuffled the deck. Ambient light enveloped the foggy mist obscuring the landing. Misfortune floated up the steps, Sword in hand. In the distance, I could hear the weeping and gnashing of teeth. I peeked at the next two cards. The Devil and the Tower. What to do?