The local fortune teller has a very small house on the outskirts of town. She offers her services on weekend days to those who ring the bell. Cash only. Business is booming, as the times are frightening and uncertain for most people these days.
The lady in the purple dress is one of the fortune teller's regular customers. She comes once a week since her fiancee mysteriously disappeared. The townsfolk say he ran off with a younger woman, but she believes he was abducted by circus people. The fortune teller will neither confirm nor deny this, but has more than once offered the lady her attractive nephew's phone number.
The fortune teller's husband has a special room on the other side of the house where he continuously practices his bassoon, in a never-ending attempt to be accepted into the town music hall's pit orchestra. The flower box beneath his window is his prized possession, but no matter what remedies he tries, he can't seem to keep the snails out of it. This has been keeping him up nights lately, and his tossing and turning has forced the fortune teller to start sleeping on a cot in her parlor.
You can build the fortune teller's house, yourself. Just be warned, her husband's bassoon playing can wear on the ears.
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