Equinox ★ jimmy page imagines

ten

"Take a seat," I mutter.

"You know I'm here?"

I grind the last flower petal down for my tea. "I can hear the curtain moving."

You chuckle a little to yourself, a low, light sound. The chair legs squeak across the floor as you sit.

I leave the petals for later, to dry and earn their flavor, and turn to you. You're waifish, long-haired. You smell like a flower I can't identify and the sweat that comes from a brisk walk. You have on a patterned long sleeve shirt. Confidence sits in the upturn of your mouth. At first, I see arrogance. But it shifts. Perhaps, instead, you're trying your best to access the higher power. I join you at my table and set my hands, palm down, in front of me.

"You want to commune with the cards?" I ask. They sit in a stack beside me.

You adjust in the wooden chair, "Yes."

"A dollar fifty. American money," I add, conscious of the English lilt in your voice.

I watch you reach into your pocket to pull out a crumpled bill and a two coins. You slide them across the table towards me and I slip them into my skirt. I give you a grin and you smile back.

With a wave of my hand, I address the cards. "Take them. Shuffle them until you're satisfied. Do it with intention, with your question in mind."

You cut the cards over and over. You have large hands with long, thin fingers. For playing piano? No, your peach-colored shirt is too on-trend for the old instruments. You're electric.

"I'm satisfied," you finally say and hand the pile back to me. My fingers touch yours; your skin is cold and clean. You must have been born at the turn of the new year.

"Tell me your question."

You clear your throat and look me over carefully from beneath your dark brows. "What can I expect from this journey? With my band?"

You're a guitar player, I realize suddenly. I imagine you on stage, how your hair might fall in your face. I set the first card on the table.

"This is your past." It's the six of cups. Six flowers blooming in goblets. "You must have had a happy childhood." I look to your face for confirmation. Your only expression is the line between your brows. "This card represents the nostalgia you feel for the past and the comfort of the place you came from. It is your origin."

I turn the card to face you, to allow you to observe its drawing before I reach for the second in the stack. Your silence urges me forward.

"Your present: two of cups. There is a great partnership occurring now. You're entwined in a successful relationship that is balanced. Energy flows between you and your counterpart."

You hum at this and I watch your gaze slide over the image of the lion.

"Honor," I explain and tap a fingernail to the card. "And loyalty."

"Yes," you merely say.

I bring the final card face up. "This is your future. Temperance, reversed." The winged figure. The water spilling from cup to cup in a cycle. "Something will be forgotten. Although you will be steady and sure, the rewards you've earned will prove too much."

This is the one you stare at. The connection is lost. No wrinkling of your forehead nor timid smile. You seem in protest.

"What bothers you about this one?" I prod.

"The contradiction," you immediately answer. "How can I forget if I've been steady and sure?"

A burdening feeling rises in my throat at your questioning. "That doesn't mean you weren't careless. Temperance reversed means something has become unbalanced somewhere. I think you should be mindful."

You stew for a moment and when I think I've lost you to your thoughts, you return, your cheeks pink. You look at me deeply, with a wild intensity that challenges my thoughts.

"I've seen you before," you tell me. "When my band and I first got here, you were eating by yourself at the breakfast diner down the street."

Defense spikes in my nerves, but I quell it. I rest my hands in my lap. "And what did you think?"

"In the moment, nothing. But now I realize why you were sitting alone. You have an internal confidence. I think that's why I looked your way."

I laugh quietly. "Shall I give your money back to you, seer?"

At that, I earn a chuckle. "Maybe your wit set you apart too. I think I'd like to live privately in the same way."

"To prevent Temperance's fortune?"

"Hmm. Maybe. But I've felt this way for a long time, too." You look at the tabletop, the cards still out and open. You raise a hand to your neck to touch the top-most button of your shirt. "What should I call you? To find you again."

I raise my brows at this shift. The sign outside lists no name, but recently, I've put myself in the phonebook as Lady Midnight to honor Leonard Cohen.

This is the name I give you. And you grin. You tell me your name is Jimmy. When you rise to leave, I have an abrupt feeling: that this is not the end and we've finished too quickly.

I stand with you. Before you can reach the curtain, I ask, "Do you feel like you've done all you can here?"

"Yes, I think so. Thank you, Lady. . ."

With that, you brush past the curtain. I hear your footsteps recede the stairs.

For Sophie_Page19. I really loved writing this one. The tarot reading the narrator gives jp is a reading I did with jp's question and I think it's pretty true to him. Part 2 of this is coming soon.