Isolde tossed the green duct tape into the trash and brushed her hands on the back of her jeans. Brushing back the loose curly red hair, she despaired of getting this shop into retail shape.<br/><br/>She was tired of Boston and had decided to close up her florist's business and move ...somewhere, anywhere. After lighting candles, she sat in the middle of the Pentagram, meditating with the Grimoire on her lap. Time folded over and the candles guttered before she opened her eyes. Rising, she took out a tall, paperback atlas from the shelf, thumbed the pages and cracked the spine to a random state. Taking her crystal, she scryed with it until it collapsed in the big middle. Isolde leaned over to better see the name. Oklahoma City.<br/><br/>Now standing in the brand new shop, located in the Classen Curve, close to a posh part of town, the slim woman wondered again if she was completely insane. Shaking her head, she attacked the disorder, losing herself in her work.