A Direction For Life

"A traveling carnival," Bob said, his eyes sparkling.

"I don't know," Elizabeth replied. "I'm feeling gray, Cleveland's gray, what should I be doing. The root question is, who am I?"

"Bright lights, rides, fun games, it'll brighten you up."

Didn't help, even the stuffed bear Bob won for Elizabeth.

"Look, Madame Zora, a fortune teller," Elizabeth exclaimed. "Maybe she can give me some direction."

"Sure you want your fortune?" Madame Zora asked. Overweight, messy hair, no sales pitch, Zora was hesitant.

"Yes," Elizabeth said, her dark eyes piercing Madame Zora.

"You must move to Palo Alto," spoke Madame Zora.

Elizabeth couldn't imagine why. No memory supported it. Her family tree had only names, no locations. But she'd have feet of clay if she didn't find out.

Elizabeth pleaded with Bob, keeping her piercing eyes downcast, issuing a test. "Please, help me to move. I can't do it on my own. If you care, you'll help me."

"Could be fun," Bob answered. Off they went.

The sunny shores of San Francisco bay suited Bob. A tech job fit him to a T. Elizabeth was still lost. Why had Madame Zora sent her here?

A map of the city offered an answer. Two street names that were on her family tree. "Vlad" Road, and "Katrina" Avenue. They intersected on the East Side.

She called a taxi. The driver denied knowing where that was. He flinched from her piercing stare.

"Drop me off on the East Side," she snarled.

At the intersection, an art gallery beckoned. Dark art. The owner recognized a resemblance.

"Vlad Dracul, the Impaler, fathered the family line," he explained. "Katrina is a cousin."

When Bob arrived back at their apartment, she had to decide. Avoid the day; live for the night?

She nuzzled his throat before choosing her destiny.