Lorraine Schein
The Reading
Unwrapping the cards from their violet silk, I lay out the longest spread: The High Priestess looks up at me, And Death, which doesn’t always mean physically dead-- Though once it meant just that for Bethany. I had read for her, and when the bony rider on the white horse Came up, I had said: You will lose your job, you will be set free-- Weeks later, she died in a car crash of internal injuries. Of course, I did not know then, could not foresee. By now, I’ve memorized all of the Tarot. The High Priestess sits quietly, watching us. She’s been writing secrets in her Book of Shadows. She’s lonely. It’s lonely being mysterious. Enough for tonight. I gather up the cards and go to sleep. My thoughts spread out before her, shuffled deep.
Lorraine Schein is a New York writer and poet. Her poetry book, The Futurist's Mistress, is available from Mayapple Press.
