8. My Ideal Fall
My Ideal Fall
SPARROW BLACKBURNE
On their soft green velvet couch, Sparrow pulled garments from the laundry basket and sorted them into the appropriate piles.
Pants, shirts, undergarments, dresses. Hers or Lark’s.
She found the simple task of sorting and folding their laundry each weekend brought her a sense of accomplishment that allowed her to relax more.
She could hear her sister in the kitchen washing their dishes from breakfast. Knowing Lark, she sang along to a playlist on her phone, taking the occasional dance break.
Saturdays at the Blackburne twins’ apartment could be described as predictable—each sister had her assigned tasks, which the other particularly despised.
Soft music carried on the breeze let in by the open window as Sparrow folded another pair of her straight-legged work pants into a perfectly square little bundle.
Her eyes and her fingers followed the seams as she lined everything up just so, placing the finished item in the appropriate stack on the coffee table with a soft smile.
The crisp autumn air wafted through their third-floor apartment, bringing with it the promise of cooler weather and longer nights. As a dream witch, she found herself especially perceptive to the changing of the seasons—this time of year lent itself to naps, daydreams, and vivid nighttime dreams.
Sparrow liked to think that as the world prepared for winter’s slumber, their dreams for the new year began to surface.
Slowly at first, whispers and glimmers, caught out of the corner of your eye.
By the first snow, every witch found themselves ready to embrace the new beginnings that would signal the coming of spring.
“Sister?” Lark called from the doorway to the kitchen.
She stood straight, leaning her shoulder against the door frame and fluffing out the bottom of her rustic umber colored apron.
Those green eyes, at once so familiar and yet so different from her own, seemed to glimmer with mischief.
Sparrow paused, unsure why she felt suddenly like prey caught in a fox’s gaze.
“Yes, dear?” she asked hesitantly.
Her twin’s capricious smile doubled her concerns. “Can I read your cards when our chores are finished? I should very much like to do a bit of dream reading this afternoon.”
“Don’t you want to go out with your friends?” Sparrow chewed the inside of her cheek. “All the fun things happen on Saturday nights, don’t they?”
“Well, of course! But that’s later. I’ve got a few hours of downtime before I need to get ready,” Lark explained in a rush, her voice just a bit too sweet.
Her blue eyes caught the hint of nervousness in her face. “I’m game, sister dearest.”
“Oh, goody!” cheered her twin, clapping her hands and bouncing on her feet.
Within the hour, the two had completed all of their usual Saturday tasks around the apartment.
The enchanted broom slowed to a stop and tucked itself back into the corner as scheduled each afternoon.
The self-cleaning spell on the stove set to work, always finishing one hour before Sparrow needed to begin prepping dinner.
Lark hurried over to her on the green velvet couch, a deck of tarot cards in hand as she plopped unceremoniously onto the cushions, jostling Sparrow. The rich, deep purple of the cards contrasted gorgeously against the gold foil details and writing that identified each one.
This deck in particular was one of her sister’s favorites, especially as fall approached. Those flame-colored bangs fell over Lark’s eyes as she shuffled the cards with reverence, her bright green eyes entirely concentrated on the task at hand.
“Think about the rest of this year,” intoned Lark in a sing-song whisper. “What you want and wish for before the year ends, and what you want to bring with you into the new year.”
When her twin set the deck between them, her chipped emerald nail polish flashing in the afternoon light, Sparrow inhaled deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed, dark lashes blocking out the light for a long moment as she considered this request. Breathe in, breathe out.
September, October, November, December, Sparrow thought each word with intention. My ideal fall would be spent with candle-lit nights, a good book, and a reliable schedule. As always. She paused at that—at the idea of a fall exactly the same as the previous few.
Would that truly make her happy this time? Or did she secretly long for a change in the weather, the season of her life, the steady monotony of it all? Sparrow blinked in surprise, caught entirely off guard by this last thought.
Her shaking hand hesitated over the tarot deck, hovering in mid-air as she closed her eyes once more.
Could there be more to her life than this?
A flash of lavender waves disappearing around the corner flashed briefly through her mind, then the soft butter yellow of a sundress against the bleeding sunset.
“Please select your first card,” Lark whispered into the space between them, her gaze intense.
Carefully, Sparrow lowered her hand. She searched for that familiar twinge that told her which card to choose, the little something in her gut that her magic bloomed from.
She pulled out a card slightly to the left of the middle and flipped it over, setting it onto the velvet cushion with a shaky breath.
“The Lovers.” Her sister grinned triumphantly. “It seems you are in search of a romantic connection or may have recently crossed paths with someone who will become more significant in your life.”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”
“The stars, sister. They never lie. You know this,” Lark’s Cheshire cat grin took over her pretty face, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she stared her down.
Sparrow shook her head, barely restraining the urge to roll her eyes at her sister’s antics.
Of the two, she had the stronger dream magic, but Lark sometimes got a particularly deep connection with the stars and moon.
Usually, she did things like this—insisted on reading cards for anyone nearby until the magic had been manifested into the waking world.
Her next card felt smooth and cool to her touch. She flipped it over to reveal the Eight of Pentacles and gently placed it to the left of the Lovers. Sparrow’s mind seemed to buzz with the kind of static that felt terribly loud but couldn’t actually be interpreted into words.
“I see,” continued Lark dramatically. “It seems the life you have is not truly the life you want.”
“Oh, really, darling?” Sparrow shook her head, trying to brush it off.
Her twin’s green eyes seemed to dance in the candlelight as she replied. “You long for something more—something new, but as comfortable as an old favorite dress. Sweet, serene, and sincere.”
“We’ll see about that,” she replied under her breath, knowing Lark could hear her.
“Next, please,” was the only reply her sister gave.
Sparrow moved her left hand back and forth over the cards, searching for the one that called to her.
A little ping of magic sounded in her mind and her fingers moved swiftly to snatch the card directly below her index finger at that moment.
Her blue eyes stared unblinking as she flipped the card over to reveal the Two of Cups.
“Now surely that can’t be a coincidence, can it?” Lark smirked as she moved the card to the right of the Lovers. “Attraction. Connection. Partnership. Perhaps…a lover?”
“Oh, hush,” grumbled Sparrow as she looked anywhere but at her twin.
Hoping to change the topic, she reached for her next card. That familiar tingling sensation hit her fingertips at exactly the same time that her magic flared, and Sparrow tugged one card loose from the pile.
“The High Priestess?” murmured Lark in apparent delight. “It seems your dreams may be revealing something to you that you need to pay close attention to. Follow your intuition closely in the coming days, dear sister.”
“T-that could be about anything!” Sparrow said.
Lark raised one perfectly shaped ginger eyebrow. “The lady doth protest too much methinks.”
“You…you’re up to something. I’m certain of it,” she grumbled, turning away to end their staring match. “I don’t know what it could be just yet, but I know you’ve done something.”
“So suspicious,” Lark replied with a knowing smirk.
She gestured to the deck once more, and Sparrow thanked the stars that she could finally pull her last card for this reading.
Her dreams, of late, had been rather focused on the pretty bookstore owner and the town’s annual Pumpkin Festival.
But surely that was the result of a passing fancy, not the kind of soulmate connection her sister had implied.
Her fingers twitched once more, tugging the final card loose.
The deep purple of the piece flashed nearly black in the flicker of the candles as a wind whooshed through the open window and threatened to extinguish the dripping candles.
When she flipped the card to face up, Sparrow found herself staring down at the Knight of Wands.
Take action. Act now. Do not wait. Her mind seemed to shout, the beat of her heart thundering in her ears as she stared, frozen, at the card in her hand.
“Well, well, well.” A delighted giggle burst from Lark’s lips. “Would you look at that?”
Her fair hand gently removed the card from Sparrow’s hand, placing it beneath the Lovers to complete the spread. Those glittering green eyes took in the completed reading as if she could read the exact meaning directly from the universe.
When Lark turned back to Sparrow, that triumphant look had returned, and something about it set her on edge. Her sister looked just a little too pleased with herself, in a way that troubled Sparrow more than she cared to admit.
“Well, then! I’ve got to get ready for dinner and drinks with the witches,” she said cheerily.
Then those bright, attentive eyes and that dangerous smile disappeared around the corner into her bedroom. Sparrow remained rooted to the spot, her mind racing and her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of the cards spread out before her.