Drabble - Life Reshuffled
A series of drabbles revisiting one I wrote awhile back featuring Tia Dalma reading Jack Sparrow’s future in the cards. 100 words each, they explore the meaning behind each of the cards.
The original drabble can be found here.
The Tarot cards described are from the Rider-Waite deck.
****
Like a spider poised in her web, the obeah woman crouches at the wooden table. She picks up a bottle and swirls the contents, her eyes dark as the smoke within. Placing the bottle in front of her, she shuffles a well worn deck of cards and begins to turn them face up, reciting softly.
"Three of Swords, death. Ten of Swords, death. Two of Swords, death. The Chariot. Death. The Tower. Death.”
She shakes her head. The time has come. The song will be sung. Tia Dalma laments Jack Sparrow’s fate revealed in the cards laid out before her.
****
Three of Swords
Three swords pierce a heart. Against the background of a storm, it bleeds.
What sharp words have created here, not surprisingly, is pain and heartbreak. This card often relates to love-triangles; hurtful words are going to be exchanged.
There is an up side to this card, however bleak. Now the Querent knows. Either blood or poison can drip out, and the Querent can get on with their life.
“I’m not sorry.”
Delivered with a kiss and condemnation, he’s both prisoner and prize, desired and despised. Her mouth hovers in hesitation, he acknowledges her victory and defeat.
“Pirate.”
****
Ten of Swords
A man dead with ten swords in his back. A nasty looking card. Sometimes everything just... goes... wrong. This card that lets the Querent know that, yes, things are as bad as he fears. But, the swords have done their worse. You can't be more dead. It is over.
“Hello, Beastie!”
The game is up, all is lost. Nothing left but to make that last grand exit stage left. Into the gaping maw of the terrible eldritch creature, into the crushing darkness, the deplorable stench of death and decay, the pulsating pressure and pain and then…no more.
****
Two of Swords
The infamous blindfolded lady with the crossed swords.
A stalemate, a conflict between two equally matched forces in which neither has the clear advantage.
Emotions cloud our judgment, not wanting to leave one option behind for another. We lie balanced in inertia and fear of the unknown.
This card tells us the futility of this stance. The time for choices has come; emotions must be set aside for pure logic and reason.
Two Swords.
Poised above two beating hearts. One broken, one whole.
The time for choices has come. The swords are thrust home, destinies are fulfilled.
****
The Chariot
On its most basic level, it implies war, a struggle, an eventual, hard-won victory. Over enemies, obstacles, the beasts inside you.
Control is required over opposing emotions, wants, needs, people, circumstances; bring them together and give them a single direction, your direction.
Yet, victory is not the end, it is the beginning.
“Fire.”
The twin paths of destiny converge on a singular course.
The toppling of tyranny, the annihilation of unfettered ambition, the obliteration of oppression.
Victory is not the end, it is the beginning. Freedom is the creed.
Yet, not all have won, not all are free.
****
The Tower
The destruction of Tower is akin to the breaking-down of the fortress called the ego. When you build a wall to conceal your true self, sooner or later the wall will come tumbling down.
Illusions are shattered; the Tower dissipates them like sunlight burning away fog.
What's left is the bare, absolute truth. On this you can rebuild your soul.
“Take what you can.”
“Give nothing back.”
His eyes turn seaward, where his ship hovers dreamlike on the horizon.
Freedom’s no longer the talisman, for freedom encompasses more.
True freedom comes from within. Living life in its fullness.
****
Death
Death - a card of transformation.
The card of darkness bears a sunrise as well. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, death is not the end. It is only the precursor to resurrection.
Death must be conquered by the regeneration of the soul, and he who knows this shall live forever.
“Death has a curious way of reshuffling ones priorities.”
He smiles and raises his banner high. Death grins at the fledgling rising. Stripped bare of his past, he turns his eyes towards what lies ahead. He hums a ditty learned long ago.
“Now, bring me that horizon.”
****
The original drabble can be found here.
The Tarot cards described are from the Rider-Waite deck.
****
Like a spider poised in her web, the obeah woman crouches at the wooden table. She picks up a bottle and swirls the contents, her eyes dark as the smoke within. Placing the bottle in front of her, she shuffles a well worn deck of cards and begins to turn them face up, reciting softly.
"Three of Swords, death. Ten of Swords, death. Two of Swords, death. The Chariot. Death. The Tower. Death.”
She shakes her head. The time has come. The song will be sung. Tia Dalma laments Jack Sparrow’s fate revealed in the cards laid out before her.
****
Three of Swords
Three swords pierce a heart. Against the background of a storm, it bleeds.
What sharp words have created here, not surprisingly, is pain and heartbreak. This card often relates to love-triangles; hurtful words are going to be exchanged.
There is an up side to this card, however bleak. Now the Querent knows. Either blood or poison can drip out, and the Querent can get on with their life.
“I’m not sorry.”
Delivered with a kiss and condemnation, he’s both prisoner and prize, desired and despised. Her mouth hovers in hesitation, he acknowledges her victory and defeat.
“Pirate.”
****
Ten of Swords
A man dead with ten swords in his back. A nasty looking card. Sometimes everything just... goes... wrong. This card that lets the Querent know that, yes, things are as bad as he fears. But, the swords have done their worse. You can't be more dead. It is over.
“Hello, Beastie!”
The game is up, all is lost. Nothing left but to make that last grand exit stage left. Into the gaping maw of the terrible eldritch creature, into the crushing darkness, the deplorable stench of death and decay, the pulsating pressure and pain and then…no more.
****
Two of Swords
The infamous blindfolded lady with the crossed swords.
A stalemate, a conflict between two equally matched forces in which neither has the clear advantage.
Emotions cloud our judgment, not wanting to leave one option behind for another. We lie balanced in inertia and fear of the unknown.
This card tells us the futility of this stance. The time for choices has come; emotions must be set aside for pure logic and reason.
Two Swords.
Poised above two beating hearts. One broken, one whole.
The time for choices has come. The swords are thrust home, destinies are fulfilled.
****
The Chariot
On its most basic level, it implies war, a struggle, an eventual, hard-won victory. Over enemies, obstacles, the beasts inside you.
Control is required over opposing emotions, wants, needs, people, circumstances; bring them together and give them a single direction, your direction.
Yet, victory is not the end, it is the beginning.
“Fire.”
The twin paths of destiny converge on a singular course.
The toppling of tyranny, the annihilation of unfettered ambition, the obliteration of oppression.
Victory is not the end, it is the beginning. Freedom is the creed.
Yet, not all have won, not all are free.
****
The Tower
The destruction of Tower is akin to the breaking-down of the fortress called the ego. When you build a wall to conceal your true self, sooner or later the wall will come tumbling down.
Illusions are shattered; the Tower dissipates them like sunlight burning away fog.
What's left is the bare, absolute truth. On this you can rebuild your soul.
“Take what you can.”
“Give nothing back.”
His eyes turn seaward, where his ship hovers dreamlike on the horizon.
Freedom’s no longer the talisman, for freedom encompasses more.
True freedom comes from within. Living life in its fullness.
****
Death
Death - a card of transformation.
The card of darkness bears a sunrise as well. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, death is not the end. It is only the precursor to resurrection.
Death must be conquered by the regeneration of the soul, and he who knows this shall live forever.
“Death has a curious way of reshuffling ones priorities.”
He smiles and raises his banner high. Death grins at the fledgling rising. Stripped bare of his past, he turns his eyes towards what lies ahead. He hums a ditty learned long ago.
“Now, bring me that horizon.”
****