12/19/17 - /12/22/17

Cold Hope

Photo by Dewang Gupta on Unsplash

12/19/17

I drew the Six of Swords reversed for myself today. Standing in my own way, there is a rainbow out there, I just need to step out of the rain.

I called a realtor.

I have no idea where August is.

12/20/17

The realtor said I had to do a few things to the house before it will sell. Nothing major, but I’ve already called a contractor.

Today I drew The Star, a card of hope. I am cautiously optimistic, but I still don’t know where August is.

12/21/17

August is here. He terrified the contractor with a floating nail gun and the poor man quit. On day one.

I told August we were joining the Circus in Black and he grabbed me. Held me so tightly in his icy embrace that I felt my life gushing from me. Then he dropped me, I couldn’t will my frozen, drained limbs to move. I lay on the floor while he drew a card for me, the Eight of Swords.

“You’re stuck here, love. I will never let you leave.”

What happened to my hope?

12/22/17

Salt isn’t working. I don’t know what Mal did, but August is not weaker, he’s strong. So strong that nothing I would have normally used to control him works anymore. No salt, no iron, no spilled matches or other distractions. Not even the grimoire his working. He’s focused. There’s an inner fire burning in his cold, lifeless body, that I don’t know how to handle.

I drew the Ace of Pentacles for him today, and he laughed when I did.

“Prosperous beginnings,” he said as he laid his hand in mine, his wispy fingers melding with my solid ones. He flexed and my hand moved. There is nowhere to run.