I trudged up to my office thanking the figurative fates it was Friday and my weekend date with my kindle, blanket and cat, Miss Frizzlebottom, was about to commence in just 8 hours. After sitting my black pumpkin cold brew, that I hadn’t yet taken a sip of, down next to my keyboard I fluffed and worked my chair pillow before sitting down ready to start my work day. I wiggled my mouse and after my screen came to life I opened my email, my ritualistic brain ready to check off the first task of the day. I answered a few emails about where to send flower arrangements in the up coming weeks to vendors that had been a big help in setting up last weeks convention. I replied to Susan’s meme about Jason Mamoas ass with a simple winky face emoji, after all I didn’t have time to detail a sonnet on the subject and finally was ready to open the companiesdaily newly that got sent out every weeknight at midnight. The daily newsletter always held a daily motivational quote to I supposed was to keep our spirits high, que eye roll. It also detailed business quotes and expectations, highlighting great customer reviews, upcoming events and lastly the daily horoscope. Who had time to orchestrate these little extras to this newsletter? And who the hell bought into this kind of bullshit. But to much of my dismay the sharing of our horoscopes and daily quotes were what kept the water cooler talk going and saved myself an awkward lonely lunch break. I don’t know why but my fellow employees of Big Honking Productions ate this shit up. Todays motivational quote is one I love but let’s be honest, it’s overused and on some wall in every school across America, and given the quoted I would probably wager on in Canada as well, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take” -Wayne Gretzky. I take note to tell Bernice congratulations for the raving review from The Duck Butt Brigade for her commendable actions of going above and beyond at their latest chicken dance festival. I rolled my eyes as I left the horoscope for last, still not understanding the kind of people who felt like the stars and sky had any impact on their day and the decisions they would or wouldn’t make. Shaking my head I recalled when Billy in accounting went and told his mother-in-law, and has stuck to it mind you, that they would no longer be bringing pie to their family functions as they had for 13 years because a horoscope of his said that a traditional family dish would break bonds and cause tears. What a joke. I scanned to my Scorpio inscription, “Do not find dispair in your wrong coffee order, your life was spared on this day.” A single bleated laugh escaped my chest and I covered my mouth as to not disturb my fellow cube mates. My life was spared? Ha Charlene at witches brew had never got my coffee order wrong in the 3 years since I started at Big Honking Productions, speaking of I grabbed my sweating pink reusable cup that Charlene filled for me this morning and gave it a good wrist swirl to incorporate the ice that had no doubt melted already and took a deep chug… because caffeine… am I right?!? My eyes bugged out of my head as the unexpected Carmel flavoring washed over my tongue and down raced down my throat as I swallowed. I took another small delicate sip for good measure, nope definitely not pumpkin spice, absolutely Carmel. I re-read the horoscope and shook my head like bugs bunny hit over the head with a tennis racket. How could that be so specifically correct, and was my life saved? I had half a mind to call Charlene and ask if something was off with the pumpkin syrup this morning. No that’s silly I whispered to myself. Okay well it’s allowed to have one odd coincidence right? Right! I plucked my favorite roller gel pen from my “uff da” mug that held all of my writing utensils and pressed it against the desk while sliding my finger down its base flipping it from top to bottom against my desk as I often did. For science of course I scrolled back through my emails and found yesterdays daily newsletter and scanned for my horoscope once I found it I brought my pen to my lips and tapped it against my cupids bow, “A burnt dish will lead you down a tasty surprise.” My pen fell to the desk… what the fuck? Last night I accidentally burnt my lemon pepper pork chop because I had to clean litter off the floor from where Miss Frizzlebottom dumped her litter box off of table where it sat next to my washing machine. I had momentarily forgot I was cooking until I was startled with a jump when my smoke detector began wailing. Shockingly the horoscope was spot on and I ordered my favorite Thai food and thanked Miss Frizzlebottom for the delightfully delicious suprise. Okay, okay, two days of correct horoscope could be a coincidence? For sure! I mean come on, who writes this stuff anyway. Loaded with a bag of self doubt I scrolled back to Wednesdays daily newsletter, once I clicked on it I spun the spinning wheel on my mouse like it was a carnival game and wasted no time to find “Scorpio: Today your 6 year relationship will end. Do not fret, your soul mate Works on the same floor as you.” My jaw dropped and my eyes glass over, I slowly spin my chair around not knowing what to believe but scanning the backs of my co-workers heads. Soul mate? Here? How could this horoscope know that Danny and I were going to break up, I was going to burn my pork chop and that my coffee order would be wrong today? These were sent out at midnight before any of those things had happened. It’s no surprise I didn’t connect the happenings to the action as I didn’t take much stake in believing these types of things. And a soul mate in my office? Well that’s a problem because I have a strict no dating co-worker policy!

Peering out the window at the rummaging Saturday night life of a Avanda Ave I clutched my pristine mug and sipped at my ginger lime tea. The breeze of the summer bit at my crimson robe and with it’s clenched jaw attempted to pull it away, before I quickly readjusted myself. I wondered when the night would hit me and I would pass on into slumber. I moved from my window back to the small full bed at the centre of my room. Placing the tea on the coaster of my night table I took off my robe. Now just my bare boxers on I slipped into the bed and began to wonder something before I picked up my nightly read of Poe. “What was the likelihood I die in my sleep?” I tossed and turned with my mortality, and ultimately letting the human desire win before I could even graze a stanza of poetry. Would it be the end of the world? To pass on in my sleep? As unfulfilled of a 23 year old as I was it felt like it was fated. That at some point post me closing the gates of vision my pupils saw out of, that I would simply go out. Without a brawl or a final word from myself.

Horoscopes a fools belief. Nothing more than to feed humanity’s gullibility. Words on a scrap of paper could not define someone’s day. Simply hocus pocus.

You sneer at a group huddled around a café table, chattering animatedly. Fingers point, hands wave, digressing in innumerable philosophical possibilities. Suddenly a bout of laughter bursts out like shooting sunbeams. Something in that sound made your heart shudder, repulsed at the thought of happiness. Hurriedly, you left the warm fog, without your cup of liquid life, back out onto the damp dreary street.

Heavy feet splashed noisily through puddles coated in a sickly oily sheen. Running across tarmac covered in invisible marbles, rubber squelched and hissed. Flirtatiously, dancing with tiny droplets that leapt up and flicked away; teasing but never giving. Your mood grew darker with every step, until you were in a shoot out with the furious sky.

Stomping up your garden path, your keys clattered against the plastic berating it for simply being in the way. Shoving the innocent face away, you storm inside hurling your bag down. You heard it land with a defeated sigh, constantly abused and never appreciated. Snatching up the slip of paper off the small table under the coat hooks you let your eyes slide hungrily over the stubborn ink.

‘Perhaps you need to release yourself from the bonds of your group, before they turn you.’

“Yeah, right,” sour words burned your tongue, as talons shredded the prediction into a shower of confetti. No one needed to know your dark secret, let alone call you out on it. Yet a small nagging whisper couldn’t be shaken from your mind. Even as you snorted at the prediction, your fingers danced over your screen.

Immediately, a flurry of responses set your phone a blaze. Shaking, trembling and squealing in pain your phone tried to leap from the table. Screwing your eyes tightly closed, you fought the urge not to give in to the demon. The demon that had already fed you it’s poison. It knew that you wouldn’t resist another sip, so addictive was the honeydew taste.

Only when the darkness crept up did you begin to feel calm. Safe in the knowledge that even the universe kept secrets, you released a shuddering toxic cloud from your tainted lips. Would things get better?

The answer came in the form of a flurry of beating wings, stirring the thin morning air. Groggily, you raised your head from the table. Clenching your teeth as biting pain shuddered down your neck. Very cautiously you pinched the paper between your fingers, snuffing out its life. It’s duty had been done.

‘In order to maintain peace and harmony, you may wear many masks.’

Swallowing thickly, you pursed your chapped lips. You were a different person around different people. Some sung high praises whilst others whispered and warned. Who were you? Who were you today? Who were you yesterday?

Yesterday you had been agreeable. Today you felt hospitable. There was no rhyme or reason, yet you felt tormented by the nonsensical horoscopes. They conspired against you, testing your patience. How far would they go before you snapped?

Just as you were about to climb the stairs desperate for a shower, a hammering shook your house on its very foundations. Deadly silence. Even your breath stilled, after a final defiant snort. Calculated steps carried you forward. A ghostly hand whipped out bringing swift death to the crow. An omen to its own demise. Obsidian, tourmaline and Tahitian Pearl feathers shimmered and shone. Building up into an explosion of kinetic energy. No longer a limp bird remained, in its place a slither of ashy paper.

‘You have killed once, you will again.’

Baffled you flipped it over searching for answers. A scrawled sentence graced your eyes:

‘Every good zodiac has a dark counterpart; the one that wins is the one you feed.’

Then the world went dark.

Gasping, rasping and desperate your lungs sucked in oxygen at an alarming rate. If your respiration rate increased any further you would pass out, a cold corpse on Hollow Street. Blinking rapidly, your brain howled in agony as light ripped savagely through the midnight vale. Icy tentacles wiped away the worlds teardrops from your face. Smearing them across your pristine rose tinted contours.

An ache so dull it barely was noticed, tapping quietly at your clenched fist. Opening and stretching your paw, you released a weapon. Plummeting, shrilly whistling, down towards hell, before clattering and bouncing forcefully off slick cobbles. That was the sound that finally snapped you out of your trance.

Once pure skin, now tanned scarlet. Devil’s tears soaked your clothes. Beads of embarrassment gathered on your brow. At your feet a body. Growing cold like a hot ham left forgotten on the kitchen side.

Demonic gouges ran heavily, revealing a platter of glistening organs. Burgundy, ruby, scarlet and burnt salmon. A feast for hungry eyes. Prepared and spread, ready to be read; the future hidden and disguised amongst the innards. Somewhere the heart had been flung, sent out to an estranged lover. Garments lay in tattered ribbons strewn across the ground, desperately trying to crawl back to give a comforting embrace. Thick silken strands of rich chocolate had flown into disarray, ragged and marred by contaminates. Though a blackbird might be proud of such a nest. Their face remained largely untouched, save for a violet bloom.

After several luxuriously loaned minutes had drifted past, did reality hit you.

Your darkness… Won. Your hands… Damned. Your mask… Fallen.

Your sister… Dead.

My name is Ari, and I always thought that horoscopes were total bullshit. Things to read and believe in for people who can’t be bothered to take control of their own lives.

I went to a cafe last week Monday to go and get a nice heavy, fatty fried breakfast to take the edge off of starting the work week.

There were two office ladies having a good long natter about the ins and outs of their weekends, shopping, kids and the latest Netflix series that had everyone talking online. I was bored enough on this particular Monday to tune into this stream of whirling intonation whose banal details would otherwise pass me by.

Then they got into the subject of horoscopes, picking up the newspaper on their table to check and see. I rolled my eyes back far enough that they rolled directly into my sleep deprived headache.

“What sign are you”

“I am a Libra my dear, you should know that!”

“Well I know your birthday, but your on a cusp so it’s hard to know.”

“I forgive you.”

They laughed

“Okay tell me”

My offended ears perked up because I too am a Libra. An automatic reaction, even though I know that horoscopes are total rubbish.

“Listen carefully to the soft voices around you and you’ll hear things of great value”

At this vague point I tuned out, wiped my mouth and got up to pay my bill and leave. Leaving them to warble on about their horoscopes and uneventful weekends.

I turned right out of the cafe and made my way along the street to go through Portland square’s lovely green. It was already a pretty warm morning in the summer so things were busy with workers and early birds out to enjoy the heat of a long summer day.

As I went past the benches, I passed close by the backs of two people having a conversation.

“Yeah, I’m going on my lunch break. To Colin Narbeth and Sons in Soho. On their website they have this original Wells Fargo issued American Express railway bond. They have a few but this new one I think it’s wrongly identified and it’s very rare.”

I knew the shop. Opposite the esoteric bookshop in Farriers passage, near Trafalgar Square. I went there to buy a Trillion Dollar Zimbabwean note when I decided to start collecting banknotes on a whim.

Of course I’m not superstitious or anything but I decided to call in to work saying I’d be late so that I could go and satisfy my curiosity.

To cut a long story short, I went and bought this new bond having looked on the website. I paid £400 for it and then studied up on it for the next few days. Apparently it had a misprint and was the only one in that run of bonds. It had passed through the actual hands of J.P Morgan, referenced in his biography. As luck would have it, I sold it at auction for £740,000.

————-

Before selling this bond I had been going back to the cafe every morning, reading that same newspaper. All of the headlines, stories and details were identical but the horoscope kept on changing.

The second time was relatively uneventful.

“Prepare to accept little speed bumps in your day on Saturday”

And that Saturday I lost my car’s bumper over a large speed hump. That was more than irritating.

The third day was no better, although it’s was fun.

“you align with your wildest passions, which you may find ignites a fire in your belly”

I couldn’t think of anything that I had felt wildly passionate about for a long time. Though I did love a good craft beer, so after work I decided to meet one of my old work friends at the food market next to the river.

The guy at the beer tent was an old school friend. He was working there for his friend and it turns out he was also running his own company that made sauces and they had just been picked up by the burger chain Honest Burger. He reached under the bar and gave me a bottle with its nicely designed label. The label read ‘Dalston Chillies’.

As he handed it to me, he said ‘that’ll put some fire in your belly mate.’

I couldn’t help but think of that day’s horoscope. So I went back the next day to see what was in store, and to take this withered paper clairvoyant home.

Sitting for my normal breakfast, I finished up and picked the paper up to take it out with me. As I got to the till to pay, the cafe’s rotund owner took my cash, looked at the paper tucked under my arm, smiled knowingly and said “it doesn’t leave.”

I smiled sheepishly and said “of course, sorry.”

“It’s ok” he said. “Why don’t you check today.”

So I did and it said “today is your final day.” I looked up at him with desperate eyes and he maintained his warm smile.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t always mean the end you are thinking of. But it could do, so walk carefully and savour everything you can today son.”

I left fearful and dejected. But remembered those words and as I walked away I drew a large breath of air taking in every smell. Letting all the sights and sounds of the city penetrate my senses.

I looked up at the old buildings that lived above the shop fronts.

Whatever was going to end today no longer mattered as I savoured the present more attentively than ever before.

this is a time of great change in your life keep your eyes open, you may be rewarded

Gianna doesn’t believe in horoscopes or anything like that, but her friend had sent it to her so she doesn’t see any harm in reading it.

Gianna finishes her morning coffee and goes to the back mud room where the laundry machine is to start her chores for the day. She starts separating her darks and lights and checks the pockets of all her jackets and pants.

She gets to her last pair of jeans and shoved her hand into the front pocket and pulls out a $20 bill.

“You may be rewarded!” She laughs to herself.

She starts shoving her dirty laundry into the machine when her phone dings and she pulls it out of her back pocket.

A new notification ‘your new horoscope is ready.’ She never signed up for any horoscope app so what is this? She clicks on it to curb her curiosity.

your words have power watch your intention today

Gianna scoffs “ok sure.” But half way through getting her words out her voice gave out and no more sound came. She tries to say something, anything, but it just comes out in strained squeaking noises.

Her phone dings again. Another horoscope notification and Gianna clicks on it.

health should be your top priority take care of yourself or you may pay the price

Gianna locks her phone and sets it face down on the washing machine. She immediately starts to feel woozy and faint, her stomach starts to bubble and she turns her head and throws up at her feet.

This cannot be happening. “Horoscopes aren’t real.” Her rational brain tells her, but something is happening to her, and it coincides with these notifications. “Correlation is not causation, Gianna” she scolds herself.

Another ding and Gianna fills with dread. She looks slowly at her phone screen.

if you can’t handle the heat get out of the kitchen, today may be stressful

It suddenly gets so hot it feels like the mud room is on fire and sweat pours from Gianna’s entire body.

Another ding, but Gianna can’t even move it’s so excruciatingly hot. She wants to make it stop but her brain won’t work. She’s panting and her legs start to wobble from exhaustion the unexplainable heat is starting to cause.

                                    ***

Amy hasn’t heard from Gianna in days and is starting to worry. ‘I’m probably over reacting’ she tells herself ‘I’ll just check on her and she’ll have an explanation.’

Amy opens her friend’s front door with the spare key left under the mat. She slowly steps in and peers around.

“Gianna?” Amy shouts from the doorway. “It’s me Gianna, I’m coming in!” She slowly walks in, and with just her eyes, searches the parts of the house she can see. Amy turns into the kitchen, but there’s no sign of her. The house is completely silent but her car is out front so she has to be here.

Amy turns her head to look for Gianna down the hall and she’s a foot poking out of the mud room. She rushes over and is stunned to find her friend laying on the ground, mummified.

My phone buzzed and the screen lit up, the latest notification, ‘Daily Horoscope!’ flashing in the middle of the lockscreen. I rolled my eyes and continued eating my breakfast: a measly and boring bowl of porridge oats before work. Oh, the joys of missing your alarm. I didn’t much care for horoscopes, zodiacs, or astrology, all a load of codswallop, pish-posh, nonsense. And even more annoyingly, I couldn’t uninstall the app from my phone, it refused to budge, delete, I couldn’t even hide it, each day with it’s frustrating and optimistic ‘ping!’, morning after morning, when all I wanted to do was procrastinate from work by eating my breakfast as slowly and unbothered as I could. Why not turn your volume off, you may ask? Well, that doesn’t stop the vibrating and that’s even more irritating, to be perfectly honest.

My phone pinged again, and I picked it up with a sigh, blinking in the bright light that was thrown in my face (note to self, don’t drink on a Sunday night, it’s not worth it). ‘Daily Horoscope!’ stared at me, obnoxious in the way it dared to be there.

“Oh, what the hell, I’ll humour you. What’s my horoscope for the day?” I opened the app and scoffed, ‘Your day will be filled with gratitude, and don’t forget your coffee!’.

“Gratitude? Coffee? Well, damn right I’m not going to forget my coffee, but come on. Do you really have to make it so general that it can apply to anyone and everyone? And who’s gratitude? Certainly not mine, it seems- Ah!” My work alarm went off, and the shock almost made me drop my phone. After hastily trying to find the right button to make it shut up, I shoved my phone in my pocket and put my empty bowl in the sink, I’ll deal with that later.

“Crap…” I grabbed my coat on the way to the front door, swinging it round my shoulders as I picked up my apartment keys and handbag, an interesting juggling act to be observed, I’m sure. I couldn’t be late, at least not again, or I reckoned my boss might actually fire me this time, she had threated to do so on numerous occasions up until now.

“CRAP.” It wasn’t until I was standing on the subway that I realised I had, in fact, forgotten my bloody coffee. What a delightful coincidence that was, eh? See, I knew this app really was mocking me right from the start, what with the whole ‘you can’t delete me’ schtick, and then silently judging me when I had in fact, forgotten the exact thing it told me not to.

…

‘Ping!’ Ah yes, good morning. What delightful scorn was my phone a partner in today?

‘Daily Horoscope! You should stop every once in a while! Take a breath and enjoy the moment.’ See, delightful, with its dear and intriguing sanguinity… Are you believing me yet? I’m not always this cynical, but come on, I work six days a week in a boring old office, with a boss who hates me. No, she didn’t fire me, but the favours and sing-song “pleases” and “thank yous” all day is a little grating.

Well, she didn’t fire me yesterday, anyhow. Although I wasn’t much betting on my luck today, currently stood on a very hot, very crowded, very broken-down subway.

“Stop and enjoy the moment, my arse.”

…

‘Ping! Today you will get a phone-call from your favourite person!’

Well… my mother rang me about lunchtime asking how work was. I said, “You’ll have to ring them Mum, cause I’m not there, and I won’t be going back there. I got fired yesterday.” Surprise.

…

‘Ping! Today you will see a dog! And you’ll walk under a ladder, but watch out, it’s bad luck! Make sure there is no painter on the ladder when you do!’

Great, so not only are we talking about bogus astrology, but also different types of superstition now?

To be fair, I did see a dog, it was a very cute dog. What was less cute was the bucket of bright yellow paint that fell on my head. I’ll be scrubbing yellow out of my clothes for a while, it seems.

And I SERIOUSLY need to delete this app.

That’s true as I had never believed in astrology.I thought it was fake and un real . People invented it to believe claims they want to believe and follow it.

I thought that people followed it so the claims became true. That’s because you follow the steps that you believe in reality so it would become true step by step

I noticed that the people who are like my horoscope have the same value and attitude and actions they are acting the same role character they also love the things i love also they worker harder

Until My horoscope started getting incredibly specific and always coming true. One day i was taking breakfast with my friend.it was a new normal she opened the press and read about the horoscopes

I didn’t like to hear.it is not one of my interests but she persisted to read them she read what had written about my horoscope it was said that today is not your day you would have some troubles in it and your personal vituperation makes no one would help you.you would stay at it for dark hours but at the end of the day it would happened something makes you on the cloud nine then we were counting eating!

I heard well what she said but had difficulty to evasive it. We had finished our breakfast and i had to go to my house.some bandits crossed the road rebelling the signs one of them put a knife on my neck and the other tightened my hand withe rob immediately

They asked me to give them all the money i had.i shrilled and screamed asking for help but the people i know in our street nod with no responses.I decided to help myself I pushed the bandits forcefully and i fell flop onto my face and then continued running away to the home

I bared my chest showed that there were scars and there were on my face. I opened the door and turned on the light. Suddenly i found out balloons falling on the floor and music has played.the floor was covered with red flowers then he came snuggling to me could you accept my apology i would like to be with you again.

Are the horoscopes real? Should i believe!

Growing up with a superstitious mother, I’ve tried to stay far away from it as possible.

You see, I’ve always rolled my eyes when my mom screamed black cats, but I guess she sorta rubbed off on me in a way.

Whenever I see the number thirteen, my skin prickles before I have to quiet the superstitious part of my mind.

I love astronomy. Not astrology as a result.

My little sister, Goldie. (What kind of joke did my mother play when she named her daughter Silvia and Golda? I don’t know if I should be annoyed or grateful that my mom didn’t outright name us Silver and Gold) though is very superstitious and loves astrology.

I never believed her but sometime last year, she’s become achingly accurate.

“Silvia!” She cries. “Silvia!”

I was doing my geometry homework, so I looked up at her annoyed. “What?”

“Mom on her way to work tomorrow is going to have a car crash,”

“WHAT?”

“You need to help me! We can’t let her go to work tomorrow!”

Money was short so convincing Mom was like trying to stop a tornado.

“Maybe it’s not true?” I say.

“Like how the spoiled milk in your cereal was not true. Like how you breaking your phone not true? Like how…”

“Okay, okay, I get it,”

Goldie was in middle school but an absolute wonder at speech and debate, her elective. (Astrology wasn’t an elective, obviously)

“Why don’t you tell Mom?”

“Are you kidding? Then she’ll go ranting about how we can’t change the future and she’s doomed so she’ll go to work anyway,”

Despite myself, I almost smile. Goldie was so superstitious that I forgot how literal-minded she could be.

—————

The next day, we wake up bright and early and lock Mom up in her room.

Don’t worry. Goldie put enough food there to last three days and all her board games, puzzles, and basically anything to keep her entertained. And we would let her out soon.

Goldie looked guilty as Mom banged the door, saying she knew she shouldn’t’ve walked under that ladder the other day, but I punch her lightly on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, Goldie,” I say.

“You’re right,” Goldie gives a light smile. “A disaster was averted,”

Erin stormed up the front path and into the house. She slammed the front door shut behind her and the action released some of the pent up anger over the shit show life had become. Before she could get upstairs to hide away in her room her mother stepped into the hallway.

“Did the break up happen then?” she asked, her eyes sad but almost hopeful. Her theory was being proven correct.

“Of course it did,” Erin responded throwing her arms up in exasperation, “because, apparently, I no longer control my own life.”

“Oh sweetie,” her mum moved towards her and took her into her arms, “none of us seem to.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Erin said her voice muffled.

Her mother pulled back and held Erin at arms length. “Hopefully things will be better tomorrow, ok?”

Erin nodded morosely. “I’d like to go cry into my pillow now,” she said pulling out of her mothers loose grasp. “If that’s alright with you.”

Her mother smiled. “Of course sweetheart; just don’t be late for dinner.” She winked and then walked back into the living room chuckling.

Erin trudged upstairs and into her room. The place was a mess thanks to the past few days of craziness. She simply stepped through the piles of clothes, books and random bits and pieces till she reached her bed. She fell face-first onto it and simply stopped. After a few minutes of doing nothing she turned over onto her back and checked the time. Ten to five. She still had 40 minutes before she had to venture back downstairs.

After the day she’d had she thought it best to avoid social media but she wanted to vent. She scanned the war zone that was her bedroom and spotted a notebook amidst the leaning tower of books piled beside her desk chair. She grabbed it and a pen from the pot before sitting back down on her bed legs crossed.

‘The world has gone to shit. All thanks to the stars. I know. I know. I never would have believed it myself just last week but mum noticed; she’s always been into all that sort of stuff. She checks her horoscope and mine each day and would tell me about it ever so often if she thought it was interesting. I listened but didn’t pay it any mind. So she noticed. She noticed as the horoscopes started to get more specific. More specific and uncannily accurate. This week everything got worse. I’m a Taurus. On Monday I slapped my best friend, Tuesday I broke my arm and today my boyfriend broke up with me. Everyone’s effected though so it’s becoming difficult to navigate the outside world. I wish I was a virgo, like mum, she’s only gotten good things so far. I hope it stays that way for her but I’d like some good fortune of my own.’

“Hopefully tomorrow will be better.”

'Virgo: Prepare for a new beginning this weekend, and don't be scared of the change that is inevitable.'

I refrain myself from snorting out loud as my eyes read over the text; this is the third time today I have seen these zodiac posts and it's honestly becoming hilarious at this point. I don't even read horoscopes and they come up everywhere on my instagram feed. The train makes a jolt and I lean forward before hurrying to place my hand on the grab handle above me, apologising quietly to the people around me when they give me annoyed looks from my accidental nudge. It's a late Friday afternoon and I'm heading back from university, a two hour lecture resting heavily on my shoulders as my back aches with the reminisce of being hunched in a chair for a two hours, typing. There's nothing more that I want to do right now but to have a long bath and to drop into bed and fall into an eternal sleep. If only.

My thumb scrolls up along the phone laying in my hand, my eyes scanning each post I come by before either continuing my scrolling or double clicking, my eyes read over the many cat posts I see (which I'm not complaining about), some memes, foo- and another horoscope are you kidding me!?

I frown at the screen, pulling it closer to read the words under Virgo as curiosity somehow gets the better of me. 'Change is on the way! Don't run from it.' Seriously?! Another change one! I scoff, locking and dropping my phone into my coat's pocket. The train slows to a stop as I hear my station get called out.

My Sunday night is filled with loud, overbearing music and disgusting sweaty bodies stuck in one room. My mind a haze with the linger of alcohol and exhaustion as I try my best to get through the dancing bodies desperate to reach my best friend who disappeared once she said she was going dancing. I want to go home, and there's no way I'm leaving here without my drunk best friend (and roommate) to walk with.

More sweaty people push against me as I become desperate to get out of here with all of this suffocation, yet my best friend is nowhere to be seen and mentally prepare my lecture for when I find out she left without me. I curse under my breath, I'm in the middle of this dance floor and she is no where. I sigh, turning and pushing my way back to my seat at the bar, ordering one more drink before pulling out my phone calling my friend another time. Suddenly I feel a presence next to me and I glance at the person who has seated themselves on my right. My eyes freeze as I register the said man, a nauseous feeling dropping through my stomach as they give me a warm smile.

My ex.

And suddenly I want to run.