In the oppressive afternoon heat when city life slowed to a crawl and everyone who could afford to retreated indoors, The call of the fortune teller would drift up from the stalls on the main street. His nasal voice and a jangling bell bell abounded the arrival of the Boom Boom Ox; an ornately decorated bullock that (for a small fee) would shake its head to tell the fortunes of the workers below.
Acrylic on canvas