A raven landed somewhere beneath my window as I opened it to light up a cigarette. I ordered my tears to land quietly on my cheeks, my room mate was still sleeping soundly. Only an occasional tender sob let me out but I could not bring myself to anger over my immediate need to cry, even though not in silence. I felt the disgusting taste of the smoke in my nostrils but I kept smoking on as if I was making a proclamation. I couldn't continue hiding away from the flashes of realization, mixed with insanity, that ran as scared rabbits in front of my gaze.
I remembered the night I got my admissions letter and how the little orange sparkles flew away as I put out my cigarette on the window pane. And the clear thought of already having seen that- too long ago to remember. Or the purple-green haze flouncing around us on the staircase, as Eka and I spoke about past lives.
I looked at my right hand. It struck me I had never thought about how the blonde hairs on it curled and by so, making it mine. Before I never thought of the fingers as mine but they were, are.
Most people get scared when I take out my tarrot, wrapped in their soft cotton and organza coverlets. They say they would never handle knowing the future. But the future is never shown in the cards - it is their deepest secrets I see...Maybe that is what scares them. I don't need cards to see the most feared part. The future is written all around, deep in the heart of the choices we make, made or refuse to handle.
I could still hear the raven's croak, even though I did no longer see it. And just like that sound I could still remember what has already been, is and what lies ahead. But that is not the future?! How can it be, when I can already bear it in my memories as a marking of a long forgotten manuscript...
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