3. The Empress


Tarot Sentence:

Upright: Vitality * creates * with nourishment.

Inverted: Excess * expands * with wildness.


Special Guidance:

MundaneThis is not a time to think, act, or do.  You’re already overloaded and mental pursuits won’t give you what you need.  Further attempts to follow your intellect or reasoning mind will only cause frustration or lead you astray. 

EsotericYou are in a reorientation period.  If you have neglected to heed your feelings or intuitive faculties, you will be prevented from utilizing you intellectual resources until the balance is restored.  Thought must learn to unite with feeling, and in this case, feelings must lead.

Best Course of Action: Heed your feelings or instincts and not your intellect, and learn to trust you feelings more.

Outcome: Expect delays or postponements…but there is a promise of future success.


Keywords: nature, beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, comfort, creativity, fruitfulness, pregnancy, abundance, sensuality

Reversed: stubbornness, laziness

Archetype: The source of all creation.

Astrological Sign: Taurus, Libra

Planet: Venus

Hebrew Letter: Daleth

Element: Earth, Air

Affirmation:

I nurture my creative potential as a gateway for my highest personal fulfillment.  I give love and support to others to express my feelings of inner peace, and accept their beauty and affection with wisdom.

I am feminine power, blossoming fertility, and creative abundance.

I am unconditional love; I cherish & nurture people/projects, providing a sound foundation for their continuing growth.

I am passion; I have experienced the power of emotion and sensation; I courageously embrace life’s pleasure & pain.

I know the joy of giving and receiving; my love is a source of healing and renewal for myself and others.

I love wisely; I have learned to encourage growth without dominating or over-protecting the people in my care.

Gem: Rose Quartz, Coral

Rune:  Fehu – Possessions

Fiction Friday 02.28.20

I walked into the dingy bar where the Rockabilly band, Pickle Juice, was playing. They jumped and jived and jammed on their steel guitar. I held on to hope that this would finally be the right place at the right time. Maybe I could finally be free of this curse. 

Ever since the Night of the Raven had descended upon the small town where I grew up, I had been cursed. The townsfolk had held a lottery for who would receive the Raven’s mark and I was the unlucky recipient. A raven tattoo circled my throat. The beak of the raven was almost lost in my hair. At night I sometimes could hear it whispering to the recesses of my mind. The wings of the raven wrapped around my neck and crossed each other in the front. Sometimes when I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror I would struggle to breathe. I’d remember the searing pain as the Raven was sacrificed and I received my mark. Everything changed after that night. I lost the ability to speak. The Night of the Raven broke my life. My parents divorced soon after. My mom moved me across the country and bought me an endless assortment of scarves to wear. 

Now I was in this shitty bar. The drinks were all fancy and weird. Made with things like witch hazel and rosewater. It was warm in the bar and I hated the scarf I had wrapped around my Raven mark. It made a stifling evening so much worse. I looked through the crowd. In the back by the band I saw another girl wearing a thick scarf even though her tee shirt clung to her with sweat. Maybe she was the one. I had read every legend ever written about the Night of the Raven and its aftermath. It happened only on leap years during the first full moon in February. There were very few of us Raven marked walking around. In ancient times I would’ve been shuttled off to an island with anyone else unfortunate enough to receive a mark. Now we mostly hid in plain sight. Tattoos were far more common these days than ever before. I walked towards the band. The girl was dressed in a poodle skirt and tee shirt. Her scarf wasn’t a dainty thing. Rather it was almost a full cowl. I caught her attention. She looked at my thick scarf and her eyes went wide. I lowered the front of my scarf to show her my mark. She got very excited and showed me that she too was Raven marked. The only thing left to discover was if our marks were compatible. If they were, they would be released back to the spirit world. The myths said that the ravens came to our world to experience everything that reality had to offer. Usually they stayed with their bearers until death. Then they would carry the soul of their bearer to heaven. There was a loophole. If you could find another marked bearer who’s raven matched your own, it could release you from the curse. I figured it was worth a shot. I had loved to sing as a child. I’d mourned for my music from the moment the Raven stole my voice. The girl was bouncing excitedly and dragging me towards the back of the bar. A side door took us out into an alley. I used my phone to write out my plan. She nodded in agreement. She unwrapped her cowl from her neck. Her raven was placed exactly as mine was, the wings crossing in front of her throat. I pulled my scarf over my head and the tiny whispers of the raven became a roar. I covered my ears and so did the girl. A blinding light lit the alley up. Every piece of garbage that littered the alley was highlighted in dazzling brightness. I had to shut my eyes against it. There was a coldness in the July air and the back of my eyelids glowed red. Then it was gone. I took a deep breath. The alley smelled worse than I expected. I started to cough and kept coughing as black smoke poured out of my throat. It formed into the shape of a raven and then it winged towards the sky. I cleared my throat. “Wow.” Tears formed in my eyes. I hadn’t spoken in almost twenty years. The girl looked at me. “Jane.” She said while pointing to herself. Her voice was as scratchy sounding as mine. I smiled at her. “Want to go grab one of those weird ass cocktails inside?”

She laughed. “Yes. Yes I would.” I hummed along with the band’s music as we made our way to the bar.

The prompts for today’s story:

  • broken life
  • night of the raven
  • witch hazel & rosewater
  • hold of hope
  • pickle juice
  • rockabilly

Join the Grady Guild to get your story fix! These stories will be delivered to your inbox the same day they are written!

Copyright 2020 Klaudia Grady

Day 12

I have lost the use of my left arm due to there being a child on it. Attempting to one hand type & failing. 

My daughter is emotional AF. She misses her grandma (her favorite person in the whole world). She misses her teachers. She’s 5. She doesn’t understand. So we are going to snuggle for awhile. 

Her brothers are still asleep. They are loving being stuck home. Distance learning starts tomorrow. Fingers crossed that goes well. It took me an hour to setup one child’s chrome book last night as I had to input classroom codes and create new login info for all the sites needed. I’m 90% sure I missed something. 😫

#honestmotherhood

2. The High Priestess


Tarot Sentence:

Upright: Mystery * unveils * with wisdom.

Inverted: Secrecy * conceals * with jealousy.


Special Guidance:

MundaneOnce you make a decision or decide upon a goal, make a commitment to it and let nothing divert you from it or keep you from attaining it.  Recognize the patterns that have sabotaged you in the past and cut them off.

EsotericThis is a gestation period.  Changes are taking place on the inner planes, and at the appropriate time, these new energies will be released and you will spring back into full force.

Best Course of Action: Visualize the desired result as an accomplished fact, and act as if you are already what you want to be and you shall be.

Outcome: Help will come if you need it, and things are going to turn out quite differently than you anticipate.  You can also expect a pleasant surprise or two.


Keywords: hidden knowledge, secrets, mystery, the unrevealed future, silence, tenacity, wisdom, science

Reversed: passion, moral or physical ardor, conceit, surface knowledge

Archetype: The enigmatic keeper of spiritual secrets.

Astrological Sign: Cancer

Planet: The Moon

Hebrew Letter: Gimel

Element: Water

Affirmation:

In searching my inner darkness I discover the foundation of my outer knowing.  My integrity grows from intuition and perception.

I am feminine wisdom, in touch with the natural rhythms of life.

I trust my inner vision and intuition; I find the time to quietly retreat and access my inner wisdom.

I have experienced life’s joy and life’s pain; I have learned to find balance in the midst of fluctuating feelings.

I strip away illusion, bringing memories, inner conflicts, hidden influences, and motivations to the light.

I have access to wisdom beyond the power of words; I value and respect my insight and intuition.

Gem: Pearl, Emerald

Rune: Othala – Separation

Day 11

Spent the morning collecting chrome books and lunches for the kids. Home schooling starts in two days so I have at least one more day to procrastinate setting up their accounts and logins and everything.

I submitted a short story to the Connecticut Literary Festival Anthology. Hitting submit made me want to scream but I did it anyways. Wheeeeeeeee 

Day 10

Divided and moved my office today. Computer went in the living room so I’ll stop working in bed. Fingers crossed it helps me separate work life and home life. This face is how tired I am after moving furniture. 😴

Planning out next week. I’m trying a new layout. Hoping it will help me reward good habits during this schedule free time. So easy to stay in bed and accomplish nothing. Trying to find a new routine in the chaos. 🤞

Fiction Friday 02.21.20

The Rosy Future Circus traveled from town to town. They followed the rivers, floating their caravan of curiosities to their next destination. It was a tiny circus with very few curiosities to speak of. They had a murder log named Larry who followed their caravan like a duckling followed its mother. Larry would eat the table scraps tossed overboard and he was a very content little crocodile. He was so dark in color he was almost purple. He was also tiny compared to the other river crocs. When the other crocs came nearby he’d pull himself up on a shelf on the back of the circus barge. The Ring Master’s name was Waltz. He was a cranky old bastard who was very strict with the crew. 

They floated down to the next dock in the town of Middleway. Waltz began bellowing as usual that the tent and ring must be set up in less than an hour. The circus folk flowed out of the river and off the barge. It hurt the river crew to be on land for so long. They struggled as their skin dried out and breathing became difficult. Waltz refused to give them even a drop of water until everything was set up. It put a hustle in their steps but also hate in their hearts. They had no choice but to obey the Ring Master. He held their prince captive in a tank on the barge. None had been able to free the tiny river prince. The last rescue attempt had left the prince scarred when his tank had been shattered. For that folly, the river crew mourned forever. They could find no way to free their prince without harming him further. The young tarantula wrangler, Silvertips, watched with sad eyes as the river crew worked themselves to sickness for her father. Waltz blamed his long dead wife for the weakness of compassion that Silvertips carried. His wife, Sandrine, had died trying to save some of their crew from a fire on the second barge they used to travel with. It had been where the crew slept and the critters were kept. Waltz had ordered the river crew to help put the fire out but they had been exhausted from setting up the tent that day. His normally quiet wife had screamed at him that he had to unlock the cabin and release the crew locked inside. Waltz had laughed and said he could replace the crew at the next dock. Sandrine had snatched the key from his waist and leapt onto the burning barge. She scrambled across the deck and made it to the cabin door. She unlocked it and fell inside. Within seconds half of the crew was diving off the barge into the water. There was a large boom and the barge sank to the bottom of the river. Sandrine never resurfaced. When the barge was dragged out of the river bed and Waltz climbed into the burned and waterlogged shell, he found Sandrine trapped by the critter cages. Her hand was still wrapped around the lock on the wolf cage. The wolf was drowned right next to her. Waltz screamed in rage and sorrow. After Sandrine died he became an ever more unrelenting task master. The drowned crew and critters were sent to the crematorium. The other crew held a silent vigil at midnight for their lost friends and family. Sandrine was buried in the town she was raised in. Her grave was covered in monkshood and hyacinth. It spooked the townspeople and they started a whole new cemetary just so they wouldn’t have to walk by her grave. Strange canine footprints were often found on the grounds. The townsfolk crossed themselves when passing by the cemetary. 

It had been nearly five years since Sandrine’s death. Waltz had finally decided to stop at the dock by her final resting place once again. He hoped that the townsfolk’s memories were short and they wouldn’t remember that it was this circus that had suffered the devastating fire. If they did remember, Waltz hoped that their morbid curiosity would win out and they’d still have decent attendance at the show. 

The sun went down and slowly the crowd started to trickle in. Before long the big tent was full. The jugglers and dancers got the crowd going. Silvertips was stationed in a smaller tent to the side, offering Luck Spider bites to anyone willing to pay. The Luck Spider’s venom lasted no more than twenty four hours but gambler’s lined up outside the tent. There would most likely be brawl over a forbidden poker game somewhere in town tonight. The third gambler in line offered to pay triple the fee if she wouldn’t let any of his rivals get a bite. A brawl started in the line and Waltz had to toss the three of them out. After an hour, the Tarantula Tent was closed down for the night. Silvertips was sent to get ready for her high wire act. Fifteen minutes later Silvertips was hanging from the ceiling of the tent by a length of spider silk. It was the closest she ever got to feeling like she was one of her beloved spiders and she loved it. The crowd oohed and aahed as she twisted herself up in the silk and then unrolled herself until she was perilously close to the ground. She was in the process of climbing up the silk again when the first scream started. At first Silvertips ignored it, assuming it was just an overanxious spectator. But then there were more screams. Silvertips was halfway to the top of the tent when she stopped to look around. The townsfolk had crammed themselves on the topmost bleachers. They all stared at the main entrance and many of the children were weeping. A glowing silver wolf stalked into the tent. You could see the outline of the tent canvas and poles through him. He growled loudly and several women fainted. The wolf walked to the center ring and sat just below where Silvertips was suspended. Silvertips could see the sands below him through his translucent form. She knew she should be afraid but wasn’t. Silvertips had spent most of the last five years afraid of her father’s anger. A ghost wolf paled in comparison. Waltz stomped into the ring bellowing. “What’s going on here???!”

No one answered him. He caught sight of the wolf and he went pale. “You? How? You are dead! I saw to it myself! You should’ve burned and instead you took Sandrine with you! You cursed beast! Go back to hell!” His voice shrieked as panic clawed at his throat. The wolf stalked closer to him. Between one blink and the next he became a man instead. He was no more solid but he was far larger than Waltz. Waltz shrieked and ran into the night. The ghost turned and looked at Silvertips. Silvertips was shocked to see a mirror of her own green eyes staring back at her. His wavy brown hair held streaks of silver just like her own did. Her mind and heart made fast calculations. This was her true father. Murdered by that bastard Waltz. The ghost placed his hand over his heart and bowed to her. Then he was a wolf again and he bounded after Waltz. The tent was silent as howls and screams tore through the night. Silvertips slid down to the ring floor. She gathered poise she didn’t know she posessed. “I’m afraid the show is over for tonight. Anyone who would like a refund, please see me at the box office.” 

She walked out and stepped into the booth. None stopped on their way out. Several people crossed themselves as they passed by. Some murmured prayers. A few placed their hands over their hearts and nodded to her as they left. Silvertips returned to the barge and immediately released the river prince. Outside of his small tank he unfolded until he was taller than her. He gobbled down a plate of forest berries and nuts. He thanked her and dove into the river.

In the morning, Waltz’s body was found beside the river. His face was a mask of sheer terror. There was not a single scratch on him. There were wolf prints in the mud beside his body and monkshood blossoms were scattered everywhere. No one wanted to touch it. In the night the river crocodiles dragged Waltz away.

The prompts for today’s story:

  • circus 
  • travel to rivers 
  • gobble forest berries and nuts 
  • murder log 
  • rosy future 
  • spider bites 
  • called silvertips

Join the Grady Guild to get your story fix! These stories will be delivered to your inbox the same day they are written!

Copyright 2020 Klaudia Grady

Day 7

Now that husband is home, I’m making sourdough bread. It won’t be ready until 9 tonight but it was important to keep an eye on the ‘coworkers’ today. Punching dough is still therapeutic to deal with stress. Today I’m listening to old school dance music while kneading dough. A little Jump by Kriss Kross and some Mambo #5 by Lou Bega and a dash of whatever else Spotify comes up with. 💃🏻

Tonight I have to catch up and get next week’s story written for my newsletter subscribers. This is my seventh straight week in a row sending my stories out on Fridays. I’m proud of my consistency and I’m not letting myself or my readers down. 

Day 6

The problem with putting my sunglasses on my desk is I mistake them for my reading glasses. Looks cool but functionally useless. 😂

Looks like I have to switch back to my big planner. I had downsized this year in the interest of simplicity. The universe is laughing at me right now. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I have twice the things to keep track of because of the quarantine/social distancing. Homeschool info. Kids schedules. Sigh. Fortunately switching planners is fun for me. I’m a dork. I know. 

Day 5

The panic threatens to swallow me whole sometimes. 
The uncertainty. The unknown. 
I try to breathe through it but my breath gets stuck in my chest. 
A wild thing clawing at my heart. 

Distraction is the only cure. 
I read passages from my favorite book. 
I play Mario Party with my daughter. 
And find my breath again. 

💜

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