Each card foretells a fresh doom.
She lays them side by side, three perfect slabs, her bridge towards the truth.
An Ace of Cups, swollen and overflowing with false optimism. A Star, whose luster must one day dim to black hole certainty. An Ouroboros grown fat on its own tail.
Time is a tortoise no hare can outrun.
It is not Death she fears, nor the passage of hours, as swift and continuous as sand through glass.
No, it is their final kiss, one last “I love you” before night’s endless maw devours them together, that makes her deal again.
Photo credit: Ricardo Rosado
I love the descriptive nature of this piece and your take on the photo prompt. Great job and super visual!