7/11/17
The physical pain has improved somewhat today, but that could just be the pain killers. Typing still hurts, but if I’m not writing, I have to deal with August and I can’t.
I did read his tarot for him, and it was not flattering. I drew the reversed Mother of Wands. She’s beautiful and holds so much wisdom in her eyes. But reversed?
“You’ve gotten ugly, more inside than out.”
“Quite an impolite thing to say.” He, glowered at me and tried to knock my water glass off the desk. His hand whiffed through it and his scowl deepened.
“That’s reality.” I turned away from him. I feel like it is vitally important that he not think I’m afraid of him. Am I though? Would my own death not be welcome at this point?
“I have no reality.” August was quiet.
“Then why are you fighting it?” I turned back and met his abyssal brown eyes. He looked away.
“I’m going outside, the neighbors got a new cat.”
Will I survive August?
Do I care?