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This blog describes my journey with the tarot. Here you can find articles, spreads, deck reviews, tarot fiction, practice readings, exercises or get readings (see tabs above).

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Mittwoch, 4. Januar 2012

Sunken City


This time an idea sprang to mind before I could draw a card to use as a prompt. This week's word is "cutting" in the following sense: inclined or likely to wound the feelings of others especially because of a ruthless incisiveness

But I thought I'd try and find a card that I can associate with the word "cutting" in that sense and came up with the Five of Swords. It has that quality of taking pleasure in hurting somebody (or oneself) and it got me in the mood for this piece.

SUNKEN CITY

God, I hated London! This restless, noisy moloch. I hated the Tube, its endless labyrinth of escalators and subways in which there was the same stuffy humidity all year round. I hated its eerie sounds, the scampering rats between the tracks. People ducking behind walls of newspaper which they wore like a piece of armour when they were swallowed by the damp, mouldy entrails of the city, rattling along towards their work, shrouded in deafening noise. In the flickering light of the speeding train cars, their paper walls provided protection from unwanted social contact.

Yet, without this subterranean network of veins pumping vital workforce in and out of the city, chaos would have reigned in the streets.

What was I thinking when I moved here? Aeons ago when I had found Richard’s cutting sarcasm endearing, his mannerisms charming.

The train had slowed down and I stared out of the window into the blackness of the tunnel which seemed to widen. For an instant there was a streak of white flashing past. Tiles. A ghost station! I had heard there were a number of those scattered under the city. Given up, discarded, some still intact whereas of others – like this one – merely faint traces remained. They all bore the tragedy of sunken ships, long lost witnesses of human civilisation. Forgotten, haunted places. Like clean sheets, no longer infused with the sweat of passion. A lover’s eyes that lost their hunger. Shrieking, the train came to a halt. I just knew we were past all hope.

Kommentare:

  1. You KNOW someone means to hurt when they follow that hurtful word or action by "what's the matter with you, can't you take a joke?" People...can't live with them, can't live without them :)
    Sharyn/AJ

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  2. People ducking behind walls of newspaper which they wore like a piece of armour...

    Beautiful writing

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  3. Amazing descriptions... "subterranean network of veins pumping vital workforce in and out of the city..."

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  4. @Sharyn: True. The web-equivalent of that is putting a winking smiley-face behind everything and claiming you didn't mean it like that. :)

    @Kelly/Tara: Thank you guys!

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  5. Great to have you back again this week, Satu. This is a great piece. There's loads of really lovely writing in this. A couple of comments have already highlighted some of them but I especially liked 'clean sheets, no longer infused with the sweat of passion'. Brilliant. We're delighted you've joined us.

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