She shuffles the cards in her palm, her elbows resting on the old mahogany table in the garden.
Her fingertips stroke their delicately ornamented gilded backs as she layers card over card from one palm to the other, and crickets chirped in the undergrowth under a sky stained dusk.
"This is the last time" she whispers. He tilts his head at her statement.
"Huh?"
"This is the last time I do this. No more readings." She say, this time with more irritation in her tone. She sighs softly.
She flips the first card in the pack over. It's the Queen of Cups.
"Interesting. She is royal. And that is in no way literal. She seems to be like anyone else, but she is not. She is far more superior. The Queen of Cups is wise, and governing but with love and tenderness. She is a mother, a friend, and a lover all in one..."
He clears his throat slightly, taking it all in, and again, she flips the next card.
"The Moon. Although the moon does not shine its own light, it allows for one to look at it in the face. It is honest, the light from the sun allows it to shine, but not bright enough to blind, just bright enough to show you the way. It is never the most obvious light source, but it is there, always."
He rests his head on his gripped fists and closes his eyes, listening carefully and trying to understand where the pieces fit.
"Two more cards" she says, as she reaches for the pack, caresses the card and flips it over.
"The World. Hmm." she pauses. "This card links to the first...the Queen and the World..." she rubs her chin with her forefinger, and the lines in her forehead form slowly.
"The Queen, all loving, all giving, is offering the World.." her voice trails as she starts to flip the last card.
"The Queen is offering the world to...."
He looks at the card, and looks up at her as she utters the words as if to reaffirm what his eyes already see.
"...the Fool."
He stands up. "And what does the Fool stand for?"
She looks at him and smiles briefly. "Come on...That's something I don't think I need to explain."
He laughs slightly, before crossing his arms and losing himself in thought.
"You never were never good at reading Tarot" he says.
"Then why do you keep asking it of me? There are only so many times things can be explained."
An owl swoops and hoots low. And the crickets stop chirping for a moment.
She sighs, and looks at the ground near his feet. "If you cannot see what there is to see, I cannot be your eyes. I wish I could, but it is not my place to be your eyes. I have no right to be your eyes. But let me leave you with this cliche of cliches : You won't know what you're missing until its gone. And then it could be too late."
She gulps the last bit of wine from her glass and stands up. Stroking a loose strand of hair from her face behind her ear, she picks up her cat and strokes it, looking up at him for a second.
"The moon is out already, and I'm tired. No more readings. I'm done... I'm done" she states, her voice twisting with melancholy.
She turns her back and walks away, the grass crunching quietly and crispy under her feet.
"
The fool.." she whispers to her cat when she is sure he cannot hear her. "
The fool.. if only he knew.." The cat shakes its head as a tear lands on its fur, meowing as if in sad agreement.
And as the distance between them grows bigger and bigger, he notices the motif on the back of her jacket.
It spells "Queen".
