12/8/17
Ace of Swords again. I found myself begging August not to meditate this time. Instead I just told him the truth about seeing Evelyn and what she had said to me. He didnāt take it well. Iāve salted my office. I can hear glass shattering in the kitchen and the house has taken on an unusually sinister chill. Iām clutching my grimoire with the dispersion spell, for whoever comes for me first.
12/9/17
āIām sorry.ā August sat on the floor of my office, his back against the book case. āI shouldnāt have broken all of your things.ā Seawater tears slipped down his cheeks with a racking sob. āI thought I was done missing her. I thought I had moved on and my life here would fall into place.ā He growled and slammed a fist down on the floor. āNow sheās brought back all that pain. Reminded me that I donāt belong here with⦠where I want to be.ā He moaned and covered his face with his hands.
āAugust, I-ā What could I say? I shuffled and drew his card.
āThe Three of Cups reversed,ā I said, āa cup for you, Evelyn, and me. It seems the Universe wants you to fix this.ā I looked out the window. When I looked back, August was gone.
12/10/17
Todayās card, The Hierophant reversed, did nothing to ease the tension in the house. August stalked me like a shadow and reminded me that, though he had smashed everything else in the kitchen, he had not smashed my grandmotherās china, despite the pattering being gaudy. I spent the day wondering if I were the mature energy turned on its head, or if Evelyn was. It was certainly not August. Heād never been on his feet to begin with. To make matters worse, I kept feeling the stupid urge to hold him all day. To just hold him and let him weep or laugh or whatever. Like wishing for death.
An excellent blend of humor and horror. Poor August.