I am the dream-weaver. I can take you on a ride to the moon and then drop you into the fiery abyss with only a few words or a gesture. I am the keeper of your greatest secrets. I can claim your secrets, your wants, your desires and weave them into beauty or death or fear or love. I am the soul stealer. I can make you give me anything and everything just for another taste of my sweet saccharine words. I am the fortune teller. Enter my tent, ye young, old, foolish, naive- everyone wants to KNOW- and I will grant their wish. I am the wishmaker and wishbreaker. I hold the key. I hold the answers. Only through me can you find what it is you seek. Sit down by my table as I shuffle my deck; ancient and tattered tarots gifted to me from a source of pure magic and pure deception. Look at me wontenly; need me; beg for me with your eyes. I will give it all to you- for a price. I lay the first card down. You and I- we both feel it; that little charge of static electricity as the card meets the table. It could be any card. This is the hanged man. You look to me- scared by the image you cannot decipher and it's ominous characteristics. I smile. I touch your hand. I whisper in your ear what you want to hear and watch as you breath a sigh of relief. I lay the next card down. It portends love. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? I see it in your eyes... the longing, the need. I will give it to you. I am the dream weaver. I lay down the final card. What will the future hold? Death. Things are becoming fuzzy. I fear we will require another session, perhaps more intense. Run along with your dreams of love and fear and death. You will be back. They always come back. Line my pockets with your fool's gold and I will continue to weave your dreams.