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The Crows | Juxtapositioning
They say that crows are harbingers of death. Bad omens. I say nay. As I left the gym two days ago, sweaty-yet-glowing from my workout, I saw a large black shape near the top of the palm tree just outside the double glass exit doors. A raven? Nope. Crow. Crows are like the Death card in Tarot. Death = change. Okay. Change right now is good. We need change. I drove home, thinking about the hundreds of messages I was about to launch into the world, messages telling of our five exhausting years of cancer terror and asking for help because we fell so deep into a hole that we cannot get out without it. I had planned on us doing a ritual, some sort of Capital-M Magic to send our messages out with wee wings of hope so that they'd return to us, laden with gold or at least people who wanted our services. But there was to be no ritual unless I did it by myself. I knew this, because Soulmate and I were In Conflict. [Conflict is where the big scary monsters live, the ones who bite me and whisper