Charlie J Forrest

The grass was thick with frost, crunching underfoot. Dawn struggled to smear itself over the sky as she trudged over the last field, heading straight for the breach, the small toppled patch of the dry stone wall.

The village was quiet, the churchyard empty, but that wouldn’t last for long past sun-up. her pace slowed, her feet picking their way between unruly brambles and half-toppled headstones.

On the north side of the church, forever chilled by its shadow, sat a small clump of graves, clustered around one large stone monument. Nobody nearby could recall who was buried beneath it, but none seemed happy with the thought it could, in reality, be just what it appeared; an altar.

She pulled the bundle from inside her cloak, untying the knot and carefully fanning out the black cloth, leaving the small stack of cards to breathe the chill air again.

Her hands didn’t shake, although her teeth did chatter as she spread the cards out over the surface, before gathering them together and shuffling with an eager, practiced motion. Shuffle, shuffle, cut, draw.

Tha answers depended on the question, but more importantly, depended on who you were asking. Ask a priest what the most important thing is in life and they’d say ‘God’, ask a baker and they’d say ‘bread’.

She knew what the cards were going to be before she turned them over.

Death; the march of time, the loss of life, the need to act now. The lovers; joy, life, companionship, union. The hierophant Rx; shamelessness, disregard for authority and the perceptions of others.

She breathed a little easier as she gathered the cloth around the deck again and picked her way back out of the graveyard. All was as it should be.

God is in his heaven

All is right with the world,

And all the dead can think of is fucking!