1/23/18 - 1/26/18
The truth shall... mutilate you.
1/23/18
I drew the Two of Pentacles reversed for August. He left the room and came back with a rock.
“What is that for?” I asked.
“That card means I need to balance drudgery with pleasure.” He hurled the rock at me. I turned in time for it to whiz past me and hit the wall. “There, now I’ve had fun.”
1/24/18
I found August in the back yard with a bag of dead bees this morning.
“What are you doing?”
“I found a beehive in your oak tree,” he said.
“What happened to the bees?”
“I killed them of course.”
“Did killing them make you feel alive? Because I drew The Sun for you, a card of vitality.”
“I feel like dancing.” He whirled the bag into the air, the dead bees rained on us like confetti.
1/25/18
I pulled the Five of Cups reversed for August this morning and told him it meant he shouldn’t get hung up on the past. He laughed, then he stepped into the same space I occupied.
“Remember when I did this? Be cause it’s all I think about.” He made me say, my head bobbing like a marionette as he forced my jaw to work. He made me jump, the pain surging through me was excruciating, like ice crystals running through my veins. He made me bow. Then he was gone.
1/26/18
“I drew the Daughter of Swords for you this morning.” He was sitting crosslegged on the rug in front of the fireplace.
“A card of honesty. Honesty is overrated. It causes just as many problems as dishonesty does.”
“Say one honest thing, August. Just one.”
“I can’t feel the warmth of this fire.”
“That’s it?”
“I love you.” He levitated and turned his body to face me, his legs unfolded underneath him to meet the floor and and he walked, in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves to meet me.
“You don’t hurt people you love, August.”
