The Pink Cupcake

Plan A

“My lovely Danaë,” she sighed before sitting down next to me. “The epitome of female beauty.”

            If she wanted to believe that, I would let her. Aunt Isobel’s views when it came to art were always a bit skewwhiff. She gave my mom a naked painting of herself for her fiftieth birthday. Let’s just say that it didn’t go down well with my father.

            And my grandmother almost had that stroke I was talking about before. 

            “So what are you doing now that you’re out of home?”

            The question I’d been dreading had finally come, and my answer proved that I wasn’t prepared. “Oh, well, you know… Just chilling in a… a motel I guess…”

            “Oh.” Aunt Isobel frowned. “Well, if you’ve hit a bit of a road block why don’t you do what I did when I finished high school?”

            I raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

            “I went to a psychic of course! Here, I’ll give you her card!” She ran out of the room, faster than I thought was possible for a sixty-something woman, and came back in a few minutes later. The laminated piece of paper she slapped in my hand was lavender in color, with curly writing spelling out the title ‘Lady Saffrainya’.

            “Is that even an a legit name?” I muttered to myself in disbelief.

            “We’ve been friends ever since I came to her was I was your age. She had only just started her fortune telling business back then, and we clicked almost instantly.”

            Well, they always say that the weird ones tend to stay together.  

            I almost face palmed. I shouldn’t be having such mean thoughts about my aunt. At the end of the day, she was my favorite aunt.

            She was also my only aunt.

            “Now, you just have to go two streets down from here and you’ll be near her studio. Tell her you’re my niece and she probably won’t even charge you!”

            After having a few biscuits shoved into my hands and being pushed out the front door, I turned to see her waving enthusiastically from the window. Then and there I knew I couldn’t just ditch the whole psychic thing. Aunt Isobel would be devastated.

            Groaning loudly, I kicked at the gravel as I made my way to my shitty car. Excuse my French, but there was no other way to describe it. It simply was a pile of rust and shit that had been faithful to me since my sixteenth birthday.

            I loved it to pieces, really.

            It took three tries to get the old thing to start up, and then four more to get it into the right gear. A few painful seconds later, and I was cruising down the street with a trail of smoke behind me.

            The smoke was like a bride’s train… only it caused asthma attacks. 

            Okay, I will admit that that joke was more cruel than anything else. Asthma is a serious thing, peoples! Don’t you ever think otherwise!

            The street two down from Aunt Isobel’s house was a lot more elaborate than hers. It was all picket fences and sculptured bushes- like it had just come out of Edward freaking Scissorhands.

            If only Johnny Depp was with me. My life would be complete.

            Number 34 was near the end and looked the same as the others. I was a bit confused at how it could be a psychic headquarters. It definitely wasn’t what I expected from Lady Saffrainya.