The Weird Insights of a Scobberlotcher

Thirteen Sounds Blood Orange

Poor bastard. From Caesar to Ratchett, nothing good has ever came from being the guest of honor at a back stabbing party. O.k., so where am I this time? The swords are make a ringing sound as they vibrate in the wind. Right, I'd know this place with my eyes closed. I don't have to see it, I can hear it. I'm on the staircase landing between the ground and second floors. Front hall of my parents' house is below. There's a clock mounted high up on the wall facing the front door. It chimes on the hour and the quarter hour. Just like Big Ben. And not subtle. Loud. You could disable the quarter hours and dim the volume if you wanted but my father likes it so we get 96 full episodes a day, every day. It's insidious. Each consecutive quarter hour of E major madness gets longer and longer. Then each hour gets longer and longer. By midday and midnight the house is choked with chiming. Then it starts all over again. It didn't seem to bother anybody else but it was one of the reasons I left home at an early age.

Anyways, I'm back home. Moved in for a bit. Just broke up with a girlfriend so I'm between apartments. The clock is just finishing it's nine a.m. torments. I'm heading to the door, reaching for the handle, opening it. And there it is. Again. A combination black hole and whirlpool. Right in front of me. Couldn't see it then and I can't see it now. It's completely invisible but it's there alright. You can feel it. You can hear it. Whirling and swirling menacingly, sucking at you, trying to drain you of everything that isn't despair. One more step and you'll disappear into it. Everything you are will be destroyed. And not just gone. As if you never were. Written right out of history. I know being back with my parents was a dead end but this is ridiculous. Then it's gone. Poof. I hesitate for a second then step out the door. Nothing happens. Birds are still singing. Sun is still shining. Humidity is still oppressing. Everything seems perfectly normal.

"So how did that make you feel?"

We were back live.

"Ya know, when people say that what they really mean is 'how bad did that make you feel?' Well, it didn't make me feel anything at all. Not after. But it's still there. In my mind. I can still see it."

"So that's all you have left, just a black hole in your head?"

"Ya, that's very funny."

I could tell by her expression that she didn't mean to be.

"Take another one."

Then something weird happened. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my left hand near the wrist. Like being stuck with a big, fat pin. I grabbed it reflexively.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"I dunno. I just felt this sudden jab in my arm. Right here."

When I pointed to the spot she gave me a look I wouldn't have thought that craggy aged face could still muster. Concern. Tinged with expedience, mind.

"Look, sorry, but we better move this along. "

She didn't sound sorry and I was just about to tell her so. That's not what I said.

"Ten."

That's what I actually said. Ten. No idea why. Didn't mean a thing to me.

"Shit!" was her singular response. It seemed to mean something to her.

She didn't wait for me to do it. Instead, she grabbed a card herself and turned it over in front of me.

"Wow, I'm impressed, a real take-charge fortuneteller."

"Don't dawdle. Get in there!"

I did. In fact, it seemed to be getting easier to slip in. And this time it was the Two of Wands.