I've recently gotten a job writing horoscopes. The newspaper was hiring and I can't seem to figure out another way to get through to you, so it seemed like the thing to do. The guy who hired me asked my qualifications and I told him that my mother was a psychic, which really has nothing to do with astrology when you get down to it. But seeing as the hiring manager was clearly looking to fill the spot as fast as possible, and also seemed maybe a little drunk at 11am on a Tuesday, he was impressed.
"She could see into the future?" he asked me, his rough hand worrying his beard like he wanted me to look into his own future.
"Sometimes," I answered honestly. "One time she saw herself crossing the I-90 and making it to the other side."
"Did she?"
"Yeah. On a stretcher."
He laughed, and then he stopped, and then he started up again when my stone faced complexion gave way to a small, smug smile.
The story was true, of course. My mom really was some sort of clairvoyant and really had saved a baby me from various spills and similar incidents of putting things in my mouth when I shouldn't have. That habit had continued in its own specific sort of way well into my teenage years when I would feel quite sly and satisfied in eluding her worries to go out with friends and make questionable decisions. Yet she would always call within the hour after being roused from a dream where I was doing exactly what I had been doing in real life, and I would trudge home wearing an air of defeat. I'm still trying to figure out how much of her undeniably preternatural abilities tied into her schizoaffective tendencies, especially in regards to her ill fated waltz across the beltline.
"You're hired," he'd said after a moment, startling me. "A horoscope every week. And don't forget anybody. Our last guy got the sack because he always left out Sagittarius."
"Must've been a Virgo."
"He said it was 'cause he knew he'd forget the second 't'."
I laughed, even though I hadn't known Sagittarius had two 't''s until right that moment. On my way out of the building, I scribbled it on the back of my hand in pen.
~~
At a glance, 12 zodiac signs doesn’t seem like that much. However, when you’re tasked with writing a unique blurb for all 12 every single week, suddenly 12 seems like a hell of a lot. My only point of reference are the horoscopes from all the prior papers and, to be frank, I suspect the guy writing them wasn't exactly universally attuned. I spent an afternoon “researching”, which consisted of digging out all the newspapers padding the basement windows from my grandfather’s stint as a doomsday prepper and cutting out all the horoscopes. I made myself a neat, moldy little pile next to me on the patio swing and smoked through three cigarettes in the time it took to realize that the last horoscope writer had built a career on swapping out adjectives and sentence structures in the same couple of templates and switching them between all the signs with reckless abandon over the course of 20 years.
A call to action for Scorpio became Aquarius’ rousing pep talk in a few weeks time.
A cosmic entanglement between Taurus and Pisces unwound into the invisible string of fate binding Capricorn and Cancer at the end of the month.
No rhyme, no reason, no trace of seismic psychic undercurrents guiding the good people of our one horse, one newspaper town to enlightenment. I guess I knew that from the start, but for some reason it put me down a little bit. If you picked up the paper and you knew it was my words you were reading, would that enhance or detract from the fantasy? Let me know.
~~
I have to admit, my horoscopes are not turning out very good. I save all my energy for you, but even then I get spaced out with nerves and write something a little too abstract, setting up the rest of the zodiac to be let down.
Couldn't you have been a winter baby? Give me some time to think. Sheesh.
ARIES: Don't let your fiery attitude stop you from building a new connection!
TAURUS: This week is ripe with the opportunity to make a little extra money!
GEMINI: Blue skies!
That leaves Cancer to bear the brunt of its melancholy title and stumble, picking up the pieces of my thought process and forcing them to trickle down.
CANCER: You will This week, be sure t Cancer, you are
I'll just start leaving it blank for a while. Give myself some time to think. The only complaint I've gotten so far is from my boss, who thinks the horoscopes are too short.
"They’re too vague," he explained with a manic sort of gesturing. "If you've got your mother's gift, you should be using it."
At no point did I claim to be psychic, nor have I brought up my mother again since the interview. I agree with what he tells me. All the while, I think about how he must be a very bored, very lonely man to be fixating on the topic of psychics and the stars. I speculate he must be dying for me to tell him something he needs to hear, but I don't. He's not special. And neither am I. I took this job because I too am very bored, very lonely, and in search of the right words from the right person.
Spoiler alert: That's you.
~~
GEMINI: Take the time this week to explore updating your wardrobe. A new necklace, the color red...step out of your comfort zone!
Every time I see you lately, you're wearing something of his. No matter what it is, I see it as a dull blue hoodie three sizes too big that washes you out and drowns you in thick, athletics department grade cotton. And another thing, while I’m nitpicking. He keeps giving you gifts in silver. Like those totally cheugy hoops. You should be wearing gold, and lots of it. Obviously.
GEMINI: You're allowing yourself to be swept up in the wants of others. When was the last time you asked yourself what YOU want?
I just saw you unloading dishware out of a UHaul on the 700 block. I remember we used to walk down that way and sneer at the peeling, leaning apartments. You said it would never come to that. But I guess that's where he lives, and now you do too.
GEMINI: Don't forget to nurture old friendships! Pick up the phone and give them a call.
Call me call me call me call me call me call me call me please call me please please please please please call me call me call me please call please call
GEMINI: You and Libra have some unfinished business. Closure is necessary for you both to move on.
That one was a little on the nose, even for me. And my horoscopes are only getting shorter. Not like the editor cares. Not like anybody notices. And it's not like you actually read the paper. Actually, who the hell still reads the paper? And who the hell is writing all those horoscopes?
~~
“Hello?”
“Hi, sorry I know it’s late. Do you have to wake up early for your new job?”
“Yeah, uh, pretty early. But not, like, terrible.”
“I don’t think you’ve really told me what the job is, actually. Journalism stuff, right?”
“Kinda. So, what’s up? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I just…”
“What?”
“Dude…I found a ring box in his drawer.”
“...”
“I didn’t look or anything. I can feel there’s something inside, though. Like, it's heavy.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Hasn’t it only been a few months?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s crazy.”
“So crazy. I don’t know what to think.”
“Would you say yes?”
“I guess I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“I know you’re not his biggest fan-”
“No, he’s fine, I-”
“-t’s different with him, maybe we-”
“-I’m just saying I’m worried he’s not-”
“-I’m happy, isn’t that what’s important?”
“...”
“...”
“I want you to be happy.”
“I know. I just wanted to tell somebody.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Thanks for listening. I’ll let you go to bed. Maybe we can meet up sometime soon.”
“I’d really like that.”
“Me too. Hey, if I picked up a paper tomorrow, would I see any of your stuff in it? I want to brag to my friends at the office that my friend’s a big time journalist now.”
“I, yeah, but-”
“I’ll get one, then. Goodnight!”
“...”
~~
GEMINI: I could start this by saying we haven't talked in a while, but that's not true. It's only funny ha ha for me to tell you how much I hate your boyfriend for so long before it starts being transparent, and at the end of the day, I don't even hate him all that much. He really does try, and not a lot of girls can say that their boyfriends try, which is pretty sad. Anyways. I think I'm just bitter because you're together and you love him and maybe he loves you too but neither of you love each other as much as I love you. I love you so much, just by the way. I have since middle school. I feel like maybe you know, in one way or another, and I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I can't stop it and I can't help it and I just love you so much. You're my best friend in the whole world. I'm sorry. That's embarrassing. I'm gonna be at our table at the coffee shop at noon on Friday, okay? In the corner with the spiders that everybody's too scared to brave but us. If you're open to talk, that's where I'll be.
Only this time, I write that in to the paper myself and stick it in the Personal ad column.
For your horoscope, I write about open mindedness and new beginnings.
On Friday, I'll take my seat at the table and wait for your face in the window.
For your sake, for my sake, I hope you come, Gemini. I really hope you come.