Wednesday, December 10, 2014

The Moon.

The grey lines began at the sockets, making cracks that curved outwards towards her temples. Darker grey splotches were dusted across her face. Peering into the crystal, Luna watched her reflection casting shadows on the faded lavender walls of her 2nd floor apartment.

She felt outside of herself, airy even. Readings tend to drain the soul-she believed.

Whilst lifting herself from the tattered velvet chair, Luna noticed the bumps protruding from her knuckles. Until recently, aging never seemed to exist for Luna. In her personal readings, she was always portrayed as a youthful and glittering young sprite. Now all that appears is a lumpy old hag with an extensive collection of crystal balls.

"Sage," she thought, "Sage is known to cleanse the home and spirits, hopefully including my own."

Luna made her way through the stuffy apartment, easing over stacks of tarot cards, advertisements for her home based reading business, and other random articles of the psychic nature. Tripping over a pile of old polaroids, Luna felt a hole begin to burn through her heart. His face stretched and vibrant-flowing with life and emotion-filled the polaroid. "Arlo," whispered Luna, reaching for her heart. Luna's blood began to boil. Her once grey crusted over face heated up and transitioned from pale pink to blazing red. Shrieks escaped from the deepest cavern of her being. Losing control of her muscles, Luna began to flail herself uncontrollably throughout her apartment.


The white light shining through the slits widened as Luna awoke. The apartment was lit dimly by the gaze of the moon. The light grazed the crystals, casting soft rainbows throughout the room.

Checking for the time, Luna shifted her vision to the clock on the microwave. Nothing. "How peculiar," Luna murmured with white clouds escaping through the crack of her mouth. The power was off.

As Luna walked down Main St., she admired the darkness; however, she was drawn to the light.

Many believe the face of a man can be made out on the Moon's crust, but Luna often sees herself in the powdery orb. 

"The Moon itself is deceitful," she thought, "When it appears, its presence casts a glow over the Earth, but the Moon isn't the mass projecting the light." 

In tarot, the Moon represents a covering. Meaning one is shielding their true identity, their past. This eases Luna as she continues her stroll through the darkness.