Written in the Cards

The Arrival

A drone anonymously delivers a mysterious package to your doorstep. It's late. If it hadn't been for your dog barking at the porch security light flickering on, you would have ignored it. There's a sigh as you roll the blanket reluctantly from your legs.

"Good girl, shall we see who that is?".

The keys are hanging up. The house is cosy, and all you want to do is fall asleep watching the TV. But you unlock the door anyway. The night is clear. Standing in the doorway, you shiver.

Confused eyes glance upwards. Buzzing. A drone? The box has been left on the floor. As soon as your hands are on it, the drone spikes up and darts away into the night.

"Huh." You mutter.

"First time for everything."

Once inside, and the locks securely fastened, you sit back down and pull the blanket over yourself. Taking a proper look at the box, you see that it is unmarked. Not even a name. Digging your fingernails into the tape and peeling back the sticky fastening you look inside.

The smell hits first. Musty and damp. Like the smell of leather shoes on an old cobbled street as rain pours down. Whatever it is, it's wrapped beautifully. Your fingers brush the starchy red cloth and you unfurl the soft golden ribbon. Velvet? Perhaps. Then you see it. The Hermit. You'd know that card anywhere. It stands for truth, inner guidance and contemplation. At least if you can remember your Grandma's lessons correctly it does.

In your hands sits an old deck of Tarot Cards. Old, but beautiful. Although you'd never really taken notice of the craft in the same way that your Grandma did, you were always fascinated by the pictures that made the cards so unique. These are delicately outlined with soft gold and red tones. You flick through them in admiration. You haven't seen cards like this since you were a child.

You smile. Your Grandma exuded magic and the extraordinary. When you were a teenager, you thought all the hocus pocus was a bit much, and her kooky nature was embarrassing. But your friends loved her tales, they loved her cooking and they loved her. As did you. These cards have her written all over them, except this time that's impossible. Her absence hits you. You take a deep breath as your dog paws her way onto your legs, those huge brown eyes staring straight up at you.

"It's ok girl. I'm ok".

You tip the box upside down, trying to shake out anything that may be hiding. A clue as to who would send you these cards, if they were even meant for you in the first place. Nothing.

"A mystery for tomorrow, hey princess?"

Written in the Cards

Placing the cards down on the coffee table, you unpause the TV, falling asleep to the Kardashian's latest drama. Sleep, although it comes easily is disturbed. You dream of your grandma, of the cards, of a woman you don't recognise. Your dreams are wrapped in fear and you wake in a cold sweat.

Princess is neatly tucked up in bed. It's time you did the same. The TV is off, but there's a glow coming from somewhere. Half asleep you look around. It's coming from the cards. They're glowing. Of course they are.

You pick them up. They are warm, and even though they are wrapped in the red cloth you can still feel their energy.

"What the hell."

You're not scared of the cards, but you are curious. You pull the blanket around your shoulders, holding the cards close to your chest, and make your way up to bed.

Sitting cross-legged you lay the deck in front of you. You inhale as you saw your Grandma do so many times before. Then you unwrap the cards and shuffle them, eyes closed.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

You decide on a three-card spread. It's the most basic reading you know, and you're far too tired to go too deeply into this tonight. You just want to know what the cards want. There's clearly a message here, you just need to find it.

You spread them out face down and pick the four that are radiating the most energy.

You flip the first card. The significator card. This card is always optional, but you pull it as it usually represents either the questioner or the person you're asking about. You want to know where these cards come from. What their deal is. You might as well ask.

You reveal the Wheel of Fortune - The card of change and of inevitable fate. This is why you never got into Tarot in the first place. What does that even mean? Holding it in your hands you try to 'feel' the meaning as your Grandma taught you all those years ago. All you can think of is that the situation is fluid. That it hasn't been set in stone yet. But that's still not an answer. At least not one you were looking for anyway.

Still, three cards left. Maybe these will make more sense.

You flip the next one. This one symbolises the past.

It's The Tower Card. You hated this card as a child. Although your Grandma used to say that there are no bad cards, only messages, you always held your breath praying that you wouldn't get it. For you, it always meant disaster. Complete upheaval, and a broken sense of self. You would never forget the first time you received it in a reading and how you had hoped that it was the last. You'd forgotten how heavily this weighed on you. You'd always blamed the card appearing for your mother's disappearance. No matter how you tried to rationalise it, deep down you always thought it was the reading's fault.

Another card is flipped. Present.

The Hermit. What are the chances? Your least favourite card is sitting next to the best in the deck. The card you used to draw over and over. It symbolises searching for truth and inner guidance. You roll your eyes. Yes, you are searching for the truth, the meaning behind the cards, who dropped them off unmarked via a drone of all things. It's the best card in the deck, but right now it's not that useful.

Final card. Future.

The Lovers. You laugh. It doesn't mean what it looks like most of the time, you know that. But it does mean union, a coming back together. A partnership of sorts. You can't help but roll your eyes. Looking at the cards in front of you, you see loss, wisdom and union. You see a situation in flux.

Your fustration rises. You don't know what you expected. Readings are always vague as fuck. It's what gives readers the liberty to say what they want and have unsuspecting people buy in with their own fucking interpretations.

Pulling the cards back together, you've had enough. Until you see it out of the corner of your eye. On the fabric. You'd missed it earlier, embroidered into the red were two initials 'HH'.

Hannah Halfnight?

"Mum?"

You can't sleep after this. You grab your laptop and start googling drone hire, how you can trace them and if it's possible that your Mum is still out there. Still missing. Waiting to be found. However, all you find is security upon security. You feel hopeless. The night ends with you crying yourself to sleep, Princess snuggled into your back.

The Morning After

You awake late the next day. You have nothing to get up for, so it doesn't matter. But every fibre of your being feels completely exhausted. Eyes still red, you feed Princess and take her for a walk. You silently pray that no one speaks to you. You're not sure your fuzzy brain can handle it.

That's when you see her. The lady from your dream. She's wearing a long navy coat, with her grey hair scraped into a bun. So much for shutting out the world today. You and Princess follow her. At first, she turns onto the high street before making her way down several alleyways and shortcuts. You've been down these streets before, she's on a one-way trip to a dead end, and. you know it. What on earth is she playing at?

You slow your pace as she approaches the inevitable. It's a brick wall surrounded by brick walls. A dead end by any other name. You stop just before you reach the corner, and with your back against the wall, you try to see what she's up to. The lady glances behind her quickly, as if to see if anyone is watching. You hide. A moment passes, and then light appears. Your curiosity wins.

As you look around your eyes widen. There's a door where the wall was, dark blue, with golden buttons embedded. This wouldn't seem out of place in a fairy tale. A warm light radiates out.

"Come on girl".

There's no way you're going to let this woman slip away.

The Reunion

You run forwards, pulling back the handle of the door and sneaking inside. The door closes behind you, then disappears. It's a wall once again, but this time it's grey and covered in pebbles. You kick it to be sure. Eyebrows furrowed you realise you have no idea where you are, or how to get back. Worse than that, you've lost the lady in the navy coat.

You look around. Wherever you are, it's warm. The sky seems to go on forever, deep black and endless. You exit the alleyway, Princess couldn't get any closer as she leans against your leg, almost tripping you over as you walk.

"It's OK girl"

Deep down you don't know who you are trying to convince. The alley opens up onto a busy main road. You can smell food cooking, and the chatter that surrounds you is almost melodic. You pause for a moment, taking it in.

Everywhere looks so inviting. The clothes are a little odd though. You knew capes were back in fashion, but wherever this is, it's taking it a little too far. You wander down the street. Some food would be fantastic. But you notice that the further you walk, the more and more people stop and stare.

You feel someone grab your arm. You let out a small yelp and Princess starts barking. It's the woman in the navy coat.

"It's OK girl, quieten down" you utter, still confused.

"I knew you'd make it. She's been waiting for you."

She says, her arm in yours as you continue walking.

"Don't mind the stares, you're just dressed a bit oddly is all".

You look down. You are still in your pyjamas with a huge puffy jacket over the top combined with some knee-high black boots. I guess the cloaks don't look so bad after all.

Before you've had the chance to say a word, to ask her who she is and what she's doing, she hustles you into a small coffee shop on the corner. That's when you see her.

"...Mum?"

"You finally got my message!"