Epilogue

There's a man who isn't real, never was, and a woman who might be. There's a land of plains and skies, but also of times and hereafters. A land away from the darkness, out of the shadows of doubts and uncertainties, and with a spirit of its own.

The other man stays as he stands, a stranger, an intruder like the rest of the crowds who waltz in and out, seeing without really knowing. But unlike them he's beginning to nudge open that door between, taking the first few steps within. And he looks down now where the edges of the fortune teller's gift are cutting into his palm, unfurling his clenched fist and letting his eyes fall on the etched forms within.

A cup, a wheel, a sword, a stave, and a woman. The first card. The Magician.

He smiles.

Fin.

Author's Note

The cards described and the ones in the imagea are taken from the Buckland Romani tarot deck, one of the few to represent The Magician as a woman. The word "kesali" is from the Romani language.


Longest thing I've ever written. How did I do?

Reviews

[Victoria Odegaard]

I think you did a wonderful job, very professional... are you in print?

[Treo LeGigeo]

Glad you enjoyed. And oh wow, that is a compliment!

No, I'm not, but I'd sure like to be. I have a few short stories on webzines and another in an e and print anthology, but haven't really written anything long enough to print by itself yet.

Have been thinking of pitching this own to some journal, though.

[Victoria Odegaard]

Well, you should be in print (and trust me, I can give compliments but I'm also very critical!)