Queen Of Swords
Would you believe me if I told you a feeling can be hereditary? I may have inherited my father's laugh and his sister's round face, but it has been the gift of my mother's uncanny intuition that has saved me the most in life. Not to make you think heeding it brings guaranteed happiness, but you're never doubtful that you're on the right path.
Through our history, every woman on my mother's side has bore only one daughter.
As my Mom flew out to Georgia to see my Great-Grandmother on her death bed, she was overcome with the sweet smell of her perfume. She ran to a pay phone, only to find out that Great-Grandma had passed away moments before the call.
My Grandma calls me out of the blue sometimes to ask me if anything's wrong. She always calls when there is too.
I had a dream one night that someone was crying. I woke up and suddenly felt the urge to call a friend. She didn't answer and I shakily went back to bed. An hour later the friend called back to inform me that she'd been in a car accident exactly one hour before.
These are facts, as we see them.
On the last night I spent at the flop house I sat shuffling a deck of tarot cards on my bed. It's not that I believe in them. It's not that I don't. I find the pictures and the concept fascinating. And I'm a bit fidgety, so the act of shuffling them always felt comforting. As I was going to put the deck away a card flipped out and landed on my knee. It was the Queen of Swords.
I stared at her sitting on her thrown with bare breasts, sword held high, a severed head in one hand and a valiant gleam in her eyes. I remember wishing I could feel as confident as she looked, fighting for what she believed in. Minutes later one of the roommates barged into my room. A fight broke out. I remember hitting a mirror. Somehow I ended up in the bathroom. The cops were called. I had patches of hair missing and deep scratches down my cheek and neck.
The deck lay sprawled across the room. The cards were crumpled, ripped, lost. The one card that didn't get harmed? The Queen Of Swords.
My head is misfiring today. I'm a bundle of nerves and worries that aren't founded. I keep thinking about that card from four years ago. Intuitively I know it's time to act. But on what? I keep looking for a sign. I keep hoping for a great revelation. Because that's what happens right? A card falls out, you smell perfume, you're plagued with dreams, the phone rings.
Maybe that's not how it works?
Maybe we have to make our own signs.
Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: Did you hear the message I left at the house?
Tink: The one where you were telling the dog to go find me?
Tink: Does that look like Lassie to you?
Hoop: *Stares* She looks more like Babe the pig.
Tink: Jazzi would be like, "Pfft. She can get herself."
Hoop: More like, "Good! Now I can eat the other dog while they're gone."
Today's Spam Mail:
Greedy Sickness from Richard Mann
Burner Scented from Olivia Robles
Industrial Mentally from Caspar Harvey
May Search Terms:
(What people put into search engines that bring them here)
1. bruce van patter's to make the king smile patter's to make the king smile patter's to make the king smile patter's to make the king smile There's medication for OCD now right?
2. Squat Juice Another one to add to my book of pooping metaphors. Don't laugh. I'm going to be filthy rich one day.
3. "my daughter" "my vibrator" If it smells funny I would clean it in alcohol and then find a better hiding spot for it.
4. "what's in your wallet"+spade+chubs If cards were called "Chubs (Clubs), Laids (Spades), Farts (Hearts), and Bling (Diamonds)," I think playing would become a lot more interesting.