Pisces, in many ways you resemble a wolf. You are brave, assertive, fiercely loyal, and at the slightest hint of danger, will digress into a blood-frenzied, rabid state, using your razor sharp claws and fangs to tear the flesh from the limbs of your opponent before gorging yourself on the grisly remains. You are a pack animal. A real team player.
Remember to exude confidence. Treat the world like it’s your oyster! Why worry about what other people think? Wear that yellow raincoat you’ve always kind of liked, get that tattoo of a nondescript marsupial on your forehead. Everybody thinks you’re a weirdo anyway and most of your relationships are built upon lies.
Your lucky number today is 4. The amount of months you have left on this planet. Use them wisely.
You should avoid all baked goods today. Particularly hot cross buns. Like those ones you sometimes eat in the old woman’s house down the street. You know the house. At the cul de sac, with the rusty grey van outside it that hasn’t moved for as long as you can remember. Your mother told you as a child to never ever go near that place. But you did anyway. You kicked your ball into her front garden that one time. Remember? You opened the iron gate, walked in and started searching through the bushes. When you found the ball and turned around she was standing right there, with her door open and a large grin spread across her face. She was holding a tray with hot cross buns on it, still steaming. Without a word she placed them on the ground in front of you, her manic, white eyes glowing, and hovered backwards into her house, where the door closed, apparently of its own volition. You took one of the buns and ran home. But you kept coming back, didn’t you?
Avoid ALL BAKED GOODS TODAY.
Buy a landmine today. Don’t ask why, but trust me. You will need a landmine.
Your intuition is operating at a very high level today, Pisces, except where your family is concerned! You are generally quite helpful around the house and get along amiably with your parents and siblings. However, you are beginning to feel a slight sense of unease around your sister who has recently taken to rolling about the hallway, spitting gobbledegook, for the most part, and at times, what you suspect to be a form of ancient Sumerian. The key is to talk. It is just a simple case of miscommunication. Ask her how she’s doing, maybe go for a coffee, just the two of you, and discuss your plans for the inevitable apocalypse at the hands of the great goddess Ishtar, Queen of Sumer. You’ll be back to normal in no time and getting along swimmingly.
Your mother, on the other hand, will be a more difficult matter. You have erred, Pisces. She found the small black box you had hidden under your bed. You know, the dark, secret box, the contents of which should never even be uttered, let alone be beheld by anybody on the face of the earth. You will have noticed the ghostly absence in her eyes, where there was affection, once. She is no longer capable of completing simple, everyday tasks. She can only sit on her large armchair in the attic, contemplating the void. Oh, Pisces, you’ve really put your foot in it this time! She will never recognise you as her offspring now. The best course of action is to cut all your losses, take the small black box, and move to the middle of the Gobi Desert, where you will never be found. Where your screams in the dead of night will never be heard.
Words: Jake Regan
Image: Olga Anacka
Zodiac is a project with twelve different writers published over twelve weeks.
Olga is embarking of a project to illustrate idioms or phrases.
She wants to hear idioms and phrases from native English speakers and then to respond with art.