6.10 – The Drawbridge

Here are this week’s horoscopes.

  • Virgo. Go see a movie today. It’s a great escape. Especially from all of this pollution and dangerous UV radiation. Say, is that mole new?
  • Libra. Your dreams will be filled with prophetic visions. Write them down. Hopefully, there are some lottery numbers or sports scores in there.
  • Scorpio. Curse you. Curse your family. Curse your children, and your children’s children. Vile, vile Scorpio.
  • Sagittarius. Eat well today! You’ve earned it. And by “it,” I mean massive food allergies. And by “earned,” I mean acquired. I should proof this stuff before I read it out loud. Let’s try that again. You’ve acquired massive food allergies. Yes, much cleaner. Eat well!
  • Capricorn. Those were not contact lenses you put in this morning. Best not think about this again.
  • Aquarius. The white ball will be under the middle shell. Trust the stars: invest all your money in this lucrative street game.
  • Pisces. You’ve won a brand new car!
  • Aries. You will feel a haunting sadness about times gone by. Today’s smell is wheatgrass and toast.
  • Taurus. Today is your annual Crime Day. All Tauruses are exempt from laws today.
  • Gemini. You will meet someone today who will have no effect on your life, and who you will immediately forget. Retain hope for a possible future.
  • Cancer. I’ve got to pay my phone bill, and also get some more milk. —That wasn’t me talking; that is what the stars say today. Interpret it as you will.
  • Leo. —It’s better that I don’t read this aloud. Better that you not know. Tell your family you love them.

That has been this week’s horoscopes.

Advertisements

13.3 – A Story About You

You didn’t always live in Night Vale. You lived somewhere else, where there were more trees, more water. You wrote direct mail campaigns for companies, selling their products. “Dear resident,” you wrote often. “Finally, some good news in this dreary world. At last, a reason not to kill yourself!” Then you would delete that and write something else to send out, and it would not be seen by anyone.

You had a friend, and then a girlfriend, and then a fiancée, the same person. She cooked dinner sometimes, but sometimes you cooked. You often touched.

One day you were walking from the glass box of your office to your old Ford Probe, and a vision came to you. You saw above you a planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forest and jagged mountains and deep turbulent oceans. It was so far away, so desolate, and so impossibly, terrifyingly dark, and that day, you did not go home. You drove instead. You drove a long time, and eventually, you ended up in Night Vale, and you stopped driving.

You have been haunted ever since by how easy it was to walk away from your life, and how few the repercussions were. You never heard from your fiancée or your job again. They never looked for you, which doesn’t seem likely, or maybe it’s that in Night Vale, you cannot be found. The complete freedom, the lack of consequence: it terrifies you.

17.11 – Valentine

In other news, several alert citizens have reported that the Night Vale Post Office, closed since the strange and probably supernatural attack that it suffered several months ago, now appears to be open for business once again. This is good news for all of us, as we as a city have been unable to send or receive letters and packages since the closing. All private delivery companies of course refuse to enter the greater Night Vale area, because, a FedEx representative explained, ‘It is cursed.’

Witnesses say the post office has opened its doors and looks to be full of activity. There have been a few changes. For instance, all clerks behind the counter are now strange cloth-wrapped figures who hum tunelessly and turn in place instead of doing any sort of official postal business. In addition, the entire customer line and lobby area is full of more of these cloth-wrapped figures, all similarly turning and humming. Those who have tried to enter the building have reported an immediate wave of dizziness and nausea, followed by visions of strange jagged peaks and a churning black ocean. Also, they say, stamps now cost two cents more than a few months ago. It is not enough, apparently, for the postal service to violently assault our minds with visions, but they are also intent on bleeding our wallets dry. For shame.

But hey, at least everyone can get Amazon deliveries again. As their slogan says, ‘Amazon dot com: The only website now. Where did the rest of them go? Do not ask. Do not ask.’

And now, the weather.

[“Neptune’s Jewels” by Mystic.]