horoscope

The Dead Signs




Aries: A potters field, rusted farm implements thrust into the earth, reminiscent of makeshift warriors graves. Lillies among the rye.

Taurus: The winding path up a mountain. Relief carvings hewn from the rock. Features worn smooth by wind and rain. The oldest figures show traces of animal features.

Gemini: A dry riverbed. Wildflowers in spring bloom grow between the cracks of ribcages that jut from the drying mud.

Cancer: The chimney of an old home. Ash mixing with the snow.

Leo: A tomb built into the underside of a waterfall. A thousand tiny rivers that run through the necropolis. Souls taken down through the waters of life, to pool in the ocean of the afterlife.

Virgo: The lobby of an expensive hotel. Sounds that never stop echoing. Stains that never really go away.

Libra: A thick, lightning-struck oak tree. Splintered branches bowed downwards by weight. Muddy ground swallowing the bones.

Scorpio: The surface of a lake covered in an oily sheen. Things float just below the shimmering film, preserved with their mouths skyward, as if gasping for air.

Ophiuchus: The floor of a strange cave. The line between flesh and stone is blurred.

Sagittarius: A ceremonial ship built for this very purpose. A cascade of burning arrows arcs towards you. A low choir in the distance. Light.

Capricorn: What used to be a bullpen, now a scrapyard for old computer parts. So many things joining hands to rot in peace.

Aquarius:  The entrance to what used to be a town. You’ve been rooted firmly into position, keeping watch over the gatehouse.

Pisces: The streetlamp where it all started, as if everything was a dream.

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