Horoscopes [COMPLETED]

Part 14: The Signs As Road Trips

Aries: hot and clutching on a harley davidson, roaming free and stopping into seedy bars with good drinks and better company, leather boots on the counter and hard rock blaring, dancing and eating with fellow vagabonds around a fire at twilight and howling at the moon.

Taurus: on the desert, picking up dust with big tires in the middle of nowhere, racing tumbleweeds down the dirt road and making cactus friends at pitstops to abandoned garages, mimicking old westerns with jean shorts and invisible smoking guns, just mesa reds and the orange of the sun.

Gemini: the bumpy road alongside a forest, speed lines blurring into fairy wings, picking up pine cones and wildflowers and collecting them in brown hats, cottage houses and stray creeks, the crisp smell of fresh air seeping in through the windows and magic, too.

Cancer: up the mountain, smiling at the gods on a winding cliff, stopping at the scenic view for a lemonade and prickled knees, flying disguised as vertigo - looking down and feeling like a giant, looking up and feeling like an ant.

Leo: in a jeep on a foreign countryside, tasting the air for languages you don't know, filling your cheeks with food market samples and coloring them with the vibrancy of the unknown, picking fresh flowers and breaking bread in the backseat, waving to the natives through the sun roof and losing the world you're used to.

Virgo:  cross-country in an RV or tiny home, picking up the skeleton of your life and dragging it by the bones across the states, moving breakfast on an interstate parkway and spilling cocoa next to a fire on a campground, bellies full, stumbling into weird USA.

Libra: on the highway at three AM with junk food spilling over the dashboard and your feet tapping the rhythm of an oldie against it too, faraway flickering city lights and rest stop black coffee and groggy truckers, sleeping on the hood with a blanket and the moon.

Scorpio: small town-hopping, pink roofs and railroad tracks, dimes for the meters and stopping inside of all the little boutique shops, getting your palm read and then trading fortunes during the drive on wards, getting lost in other people's nesting grounds.

Sagittarius:  in the half-broken caravan with a handful of good friends and a guitar, off to some plasticky theme park or blue lagoon, mismatched quilts spread across the back and dirt on your face, like you are wendy or peter or alice, a new romantic lost in never land.

Capricorn: you, by yourself at three AM with just a tear-stain on your cheek and keys to the car you spent eons saving up for, a single suitcase filled with old maps, playlists, and clean t-shirts loaded in the back, the engine revving to life like you're finally seeing the world in color, making that first unknown right as you promise yourself to finally make good on leaving this town.

Aquarius: speeding down a coast, just you and the ocean, the smell of salt, heat, and that day's fresh catch, hair whipping in the wind and skin flushed from the day, sharp turns and yelling out a top forty at the top of your lungs when it joins you on the radio.

Pisces: home for the holidays, catching the lights glimmering off white fences and swallowing waves of nostalgia in purple-sky traffic, aching for the familiar strange while Nat King Cole hums a December anthem, and the streets stretch into your childhood.

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( A/N: Sorry for the error I made I didn't realize that I had a draft for chapter 14 so I made a chapter 15 instead of finishing chapter 14.

~ Arianna