I said goodbye and managed to escape to my apartment before hearing the affective exaggeration that those two were. Saying that, I mean the popped kisses and the exchange of caresses without the slightest worry that they were not alone. It was a very beautiful love, and I admired them with all my heart. But at the same time, it worried me. He was the typical straight couple who knew each other since childhood and were together since adolescence, and society was never ready for any kind of genuine love. So I worried that something might happen to them. That someone could try to shake the strong relationship that the two had.Bia and Gildeon were my inspiration. The only friends who knew about my strong tendency to the literary world and who supported me tooth and nail. Gildeon even gave me legal advice when I mentioned that I was thinking of writing about a criminal without limits, in which I did my best to put all the details he gave me, even if the story was not read by more than a d
It was the second time I burned myself with my cup of tea.I had recently bought it when I discovered an internet store about literary articles, and I instantly fell in love with the Harry Potter-themed cup that only required the coat of arms belonging to the book when it was filled to the top by a smoking liquid. Most of the time, I just filled it with water just to have the pleasure of seeing the dark color giving way to the brightness that contained the drawing of the most famous magnificent witchcraft school in the literary world.As I sadly looked at the bubbles that formed on the side of my hand, the hot liquid smoked the refreshing aroma of lemon balm tea. I loved having tea. And I hated having coffee. I always had to listen to people questioning what I would take when I became old and tired, and my answer was always tea, or a lot of Coca-Cola. But never coffee.Coffee made me electric at times when I didn't need to, and sleepy when I couldn't rest. Then tea invigorated my ener
It was one o'clock on a Wednesday morning, and I was locked in my room, terrified that it would invoke anything I shouldn't. Again I say, that was not my religion, but it was part of some belief that my mother could have made me aware when I was little "she was afraid of any spiritual connection through magic, and the Tarot was one of those connections.However, I was feeling very peaceful and comfortable. Izabel had a rhythmic and soft voice, which brought comfort as she spoke. I didn't know what your face was like, despite seeing your photo on WhatsApp. We were on a video call, but I could only see your hands, the letters, some crystals resting under a small water fountain and the table itself that supported them.I didn't even know how his preparation for that reading had been, although I knew there was something to be done before. I didn't even dare to ask. My appointment was being made just out of mere curiosity. And also why I didn't want Pink to keep grumbling in all my visits
I should have questioned which deities we would be contacting so that the best time would be at dawn. However, I couldn't even formulate a sentence anymore without having to think deeply about it. I was tired, but curious, and I was nervous to know that I woke up in less than four hours and that I would work all day tired and in a bad mood.If someone asked me the reason for the even more marked dark circles, or for the constant yawns during the day, I would have to think of a good excuse. Because society was not very prepared to deal with harmless Tarot consultations. I didn't know how I should deal with that and how I could tell someone. Then I would keep it a secret."On the other hand," Izabel continued, touching a finger on the letter of a dog and a man. "There is someone who has a deep affection for you, and for what seems to be a man from your past. It's not someone new. And this same man appears again on his way to make things better. But it's not in the loving sense. The last
"And then we have your question about whether one day you will find someone better than your ex... "Izabel shuffled another deck and faster than before, removed five cards and formed the star, sliding her fingers over the drawings. "First I want you to know that this is the Roma granny's deck... It brings the truths that our loved ones know... It's a little deeper reading, but I'll take a card from the witches' deck when I finish this one.”"It's okay," I replied, truly afraid."The first letter we have is a dog, it can also represent a loyal friend or that someone will need your reciprocity to remain... Next to him we have a man on a black horse, who unlike the dog is disloyal, false and only approaches others in search of some personal advantage. Below the two cards, in the center, there is a hand with a ring pointing upwards. It could represent a marriage, but between these two conflicting letters it means that the false, disloyal and cruel man will have what he is looking for. Tas
This time I didn't give her any chance to speak again. I closed my notebook and walked away from it as if it were a living creature, throwing it on the bed and shrinking in the covers. I was in a small state of shock. And I tried to convince myself that it was just nonsense. Gypsies said what we wanted to hear. Surely she understood that my story with my ex was an unfinished subject and turned everything into a disaster game. Everything was fine. I just needed to distract my head and not think about men, letters and destiny.But I couldn't stop thinking about Izabel's words. I couldn't stop visualizing the letters in my mind as I closed my eyes. I couldn't sleep. I could only think of that damn man and the dog on the deck, besides that bath of petals to be able to leave a man at my feet. The man who was coming to leave me in ruins and the friend who would come to lift me up again. I didn't know if I should believe Izabel's words one hundred percent. Not least because, even though I was
It may seem that I was a little proud not to respond to the message that Flynn Ashton sent me at dawn, because my first instinct was to answer it as soon as the words appeared in the notification bar of my cell phone. But it's true that I didn't want to seem very easy or very interested in having his attention, however, I confess I barely slept that night, thinking about how the hell a simple reaction to a Stories made that work of art notice my mere existence.He was too much for me.There was no way to deny this fact. It can be said that it is about never letting ourselves be carried away by the image we see from the outside. But Flynn was too much for me. Even if I dressed whole in gold-plated clothes. Even if I worked in a place that gave me dignity and not stress and the growing feeling that I would freak out at any moment. As much as I had a brilliant mind hidden under the obligations of big people. Flynn Ashton, it was, without a shadow of debts, and without plausible questions
And, despite the positivity that I was trying to keep as my daily mantra, helping in the replacement of products was one of the activities where one had to have the most patience, not only because of the customers, but for the products that usually needed a greater force to stay in place. And I had already had complicated experiences when I was assigned to the sector.There was a time when I broke a glass of sauce, and the thing came out rolling under the shelves of all sectors making the biggest mess when splashing against the white floor. In another, after being forced to clean the sector they called the Bazaar "despite being another area where they threw everything that no one knew in which corridor it belonged", I accidentally, or maybe not, broke some glasses. As the sector was not mine, the damage fell on Laura's back. But, even knowing that any mistake of mine would also be yours, she still insisted on giving me tasks that were not part of what I was hired to do.With pure ill