Page 113 of Clinically Bewitched

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I pulled three cards, laying them face down on the silk cloth.

Past. Present. Future.

Here we go.

I flipped the first card.

The Lovers. I smiled despite everything. That was us. That was Julien and me. The divine union. The cosmic alignment. The choice to love despite, or maybe because of, our differences.

Okay. Good start.

I flipped the second card.

The Sun. Joy. Success. Clarity. Everything coming into the light. This was now. This was the happiness I had been feeling all morning. This was Julien showing up late to work in sneakers, texting me during meetings, and finally letting himself be happy.

Still good.

Please let the future be good too.

I reached for the third card.

My hand hesitated.

Whatever it is, you can handle it.

Whatever it is, the universe has a plan.

I flipped it.

The Tower.

Oh.

Oh no.

I stared at the card. The lightning strike. The crumbling tower. The figures falling. Everything you thought was solid revealed to be built on unstable ground. Upheaval. Destruction. Necessary change.

But we just built this.

We just—

I pulled another card, my hands shaking slightly.

Show me more. Show me what this means. Show me how to prepare.

The Devil.

Fuck.

Bondage. Addiction. Being chained to old patterns. The shadow self. The parts of ourselves we tried to hide.

I pulled another.

The Eight of Swords.

A woman blindfolded, surrounded by swords, trapped by her own thoughts.

Imprisonment. Restriction. Feeling trapped.

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