Suspended between worlds. An impossible feeling. There is no going back to the previous reality, that would be a certain death – at least of the spirit if not also of the body.
The new reality is still a little out of reach, though, a bit like being in line outside in the cold for a hot club. They tell you the wait could be 20 minutes, could be four hours. No way to know and while you can see the entrance [maybe] it seems you’ll never get there until you do.
Magic is the strangest balancing act in the world. You have to hold on tightly enough to your construction to give it life and make it real, but a fraction tighter, too small to be detected, and you’ve crushed the life out of it. Some days it’s like trying to pick up a small coin in the dead of winter when your fingers have gone numb from the cold, you just have to trust that you’ve got it.
Which is how on the onset of the biggest coup yet, the biggest motion forward in that long cold line between worlds, it feels like you’ll be waiting outside in the cold forever.
Remember the cards: payoff comes in Capricorn. Six weeks to go yet. Years from now you won’t even remember this suspension other than through reading old journals.