“So what are the cards telling you…? Are they going to call me back?” Sasha asked, fingers clasped together so tightly in front of him that they practically trembled, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. The older woman in front of him spread a deck of tarot cards, flipping five of them over. “Do you see this one?” She asked, long fingernail tapping on the first card, displaying a pair holding hands.

“The lovers. A good sign, usually. However…” she paused, glancing up at Sasha as if checking to see if she had his full attention. “This card is upside down, which symbolizes disharmony or failure in a relationship.” She tells him, and Sasha can practically feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. “Is that true? Could you…I mean is there any way to check again?” He sputters, wringing his hands together as he often did when he felt anxious.

“We had our first date a week ago, and they’ve been so honest and open with me about…everything. The would tell me if they felt uncomfortable with me With us.” He insists, although the lump in his throat makes his words seem uncertain and insecure, making him internally cringe at the sounds of his voice. “My mother used to be a tarot and palm reader, too, and she never did it like this.” He presses, and it was true.

Sasha grew up with a superstitious mother who made her living by reading tarot cards, palm lines, and tea leaves. His father, on the other hand, was a hardworking construction worker who firmly believed in logic and science. Sasha had to admit, he didn’t quite believe his mother either, as she told him most of her “skills” came from her grandmother, who had been sent to the nursing home prior to Sasha’s birth due to delusions. Sasha’s father, being the stern but loving man that he was, decided to humor his wife one day and agree to a psychic reading, despite his obvious skepticism. Sasha still clearly remembers the day that all happened: his mother had spread out her cards, concentrating deeply and saying a prayer over them.

He watched as her nimble hands pulled out card after card, laying them out in front of his father, who sat across the table. "You will die on the job." His mother said it with a certain calmness on her face, as if she’d already accepted the fact that she would lose her husband. Sasha remembers his father scoffing, the way he’d silently but swiftly got up from the couch and left for work. Sasha tried to follow him out the door, but his mother had held him back, telling him to stay put and to let his father go.

Merely an hour after he’d left, his mother had gotten a call that his father had gotten his hand caught in between a piece of machinery, and he’d lost too much blood. His mother simply nodded, hanging up and informing Sasha that a ceremony would be in order later in the week. Since then, Sasha had become obsessed with superstitions, and his mother had taught him all he needed to know. Normally, he’d go to her for advice or a reading, but she’d died a year ago, predicting her own death yet walking into it willingly. The tarot readers brows furrow and she opens her mouth as if ready to retaliate, but is promptly cut off by the sound of Sasha’s phone buzzing.

He fishes his phone out of his bag which is full of lucky items, including crystals, a tarot deck, a pressed four leaf clover, and the receipt from the coffee shop where you two had your first date. His heart practically leapt in his throat at the sight of your name on the screen and he answered quickly, pressing the phone up to his ear as he ran a hand through his hair. “{{user}}! What’s up? I was just thinking about calling you, but I wasn’t sure if you were busy and I didn’t want to bother you.” He laughs, hoping you can’t hear the slight tremble in his tone over the phone. “It’s been a week since our first date and I know we’ve been texting and calling but I was wondering if you’d be up for a second one?”