The locusts are coming. It’s not a warning, it’s a promise. We know you are not a farmer. We know you don’t give a s****, but the locusts do. It’s a mutation within your DNA. Those locusts are just going to love you to bits. We suggest you don’t leave your apartment, and tape the windows and the doors shut.
There are letters on your doorstep. They are all the love letters that were lost, or never sent in the first place. There are simple napkins, post-its, envelopes, and torn notebook pages. Some are wet, some perfumed and some are pink. If you’re lucky, you live on ground floor, and you are able to leave through a window. If not… We will come to that next week. Continue reading “Weekly Horrorscope”
The bar holds its breath. Bogeyed people keep a secure distance to the fight. Smashed bottles and blood glisten on the counter and the tile floor. Someone urges words into their phone.
The emptiness in Jack’s chest is drilling ache. The skin feels numb under his bloody shirt. His fingertips trace the long scar on his breastbone.
The surgeons take his heart and soul. They strip him bare of his past, of all who he was, and hoped to be. The doctors call it amnesia.
Continue reading “Heartless Jack”
This week you are under the guidance and protection of the Ancient Eldritch Entities, aka THE cephalopods. It’s the eye of a Giant Ethereal Cuttlefish, that judges you 24/7. You will be up on the soul-board next month. You will be judged and disputed upon in the course of following nine days; even your first bids may arrive. We suggest you show your best or your worst. Whichever will do.
You may feel that you want to work more with your hands. That feeling coursing through your muscles will remain with you. What a curious feeling! Dig your hands into the garden soil, into the sand in children’s playground, let your fingertips taste the cold clay if you dig the hole for that body.
Continue reading “Weekly Horrorscope”
Keep walking. You’re on the path of ancient evil. We know it doesn’t feel like that, but ultimately you will meet your God. The revengeful God of so many regions is smiling upon you. No, let’s be precise. The revengeful God is sneering at you. Keep your head down, and don’t stop walking. We root for you.
It’s time to relax, dear Taurus. Eat, take naps and have some drinks, then go swim in the ocean. When you cannot see the shore, you will be surrounded by huge black fins, don’t be afraid. They have come to guide you to the turquoise cave. Dive and follow them. You will meet the Ocean herself. Listen to what she has to say. Continue reading “Weekly Horrorscope”
It’s late. You shouldn’t mind if a stranger offers help. Try to be friendly, offer tuna or salmon. This stranger could give you the most interesting time of your life, or eternal peace. It’s up to you. Somehow those cats won’t leave you alone, huh? A bit of catnip should do the trick, you’re welcome.
It’s easy to forget your dream from last night. It is easy to forget the dreams you had as a kid. You were so confident, you’d make them come true. That was the only sensible thing to do… But oh, cruel fate. There is no easy way to be faithful to dreams, my friend. They are what’s not tainted in us. They are what we choose to sacrifice. Continue reading “Weekly Horrorscope”
Always take time for a good breakfast. You need to go nourished into the flaming void of the new day. Coffee, omelet, croissants, orange juice, pastry, mung bean sprouts, strawberries, bacon and lots of steaks – fresh, bloody and kicking. Satisfy your appetites. Take what you need, or you will be taken by need.
Cordoba is a gorgeous place. The people there are beautiful, passionate, hot-headed, and there might be a unique element in their blood. That red in the walls of every building is no coincidence. There is magic, love, and lust. You should visit. Now! Continue reading “Weekly Horrorscope”
It’s a book of tradition, a tale of sorrow,
like the snake on the mighty apple tree,
like a river of time, cutting through
generations of living flesh and mind.
Continue reading “By the Book”