She sits cross-legged in the middle of her bed and looks down at the cards stacked in front of her. There are probably better ways to do this and with more ceremony, more scarves, maybe some candles and the smell of something dark and potent in the air. All she smells now is the freshness of her sheet mask blending with the sweetness of her shampoo and beneath that a hint of dog. Betty is asleep in her own bed for once - a pair of ears poking out of her little red house while the rest of her is concealed in a mess of blankets - but her presence is still known across the room, mainly where she napped on Tomie's pillow after their morning walk. It feels more right this way. Really, Tomie doesn't necessarily believe in what she's doing, but she's found it seems to work better when things are a little rough and unplanned. She isn't thinking so hard about any of it and that's where the magic lies, she guesses, when her mind is open and honest and she can use the cards as a vessel for her unguarded feelings. Tomie picks up the cards and begins to shuffle them, closing her eyes and focusing on the slow motion of her hands, allowing herself to use the first question that pops into her mind. What's wrong with me? A deceptively simple question, but one that grows more and more complicated depending on who's asking. She keeps it at the front of her mind as she deals one, two, three cards onto the space in front of her, spreads the past, present and future onto her bed covers, and leans forward to seek her answer.