Reading Tarot for the Winter Solstice

“Under a sliver of new moon and the sound of church bells,” writes Meg Elison, “the town Witch was sat in the corner of the café with her tarot cards spread out, ready to read for the people of this small Berkshires town.” (The Witch is Meg.)

Salt Water

I was twenty-one, and that was the first time I had ever seen the ocean. I slept that night as close to the window as I could, straining my ears for the sound of waves. The ocean was a poetic trope, the longing of Tolkien’s elves, a setting for adventure and tragedy. I loved the idea of it, and I wanted to be lulled into sleep like the heroes of my favorite books, but that was all I knew of the water.