That evening he sat down at his computer and did some research on the tarot, something he knew nothing about. It all seemed rather mystical and dense but he got an overview and then proceeded to the meaning of the cards. There were several meaning for the five of swords, none of them good as far as he could see. Some of them stood out in his mind. Losing your moral compass, letting ends justify means, sacrificing integrity, losing sight of what is right and achieving a dubious victory.
He thought back to his brief conversation with Amelia. She had asked him if he was in the habit of chatting up women at cancer groups. That had to be the impetus for the dream, and yet he had no knowledge of the tarot much less the meaning of any card in it. How could it be that she had held up that card?
He would have to ask her what she knew about the tarot if she showed up at the next meeting. She would want to know why he as asking but he had plenty of time to prepare an answer. He was disinclined to tell her about the dream. It might put her off talking to him. He was hoping bringing up the subject could be an icebreaker.
The next day he found himself restless for the next meeting. Amelia had gotten under his skin, that much was certain. He did some housework and listened to music and then decided to go out for lunch. On his way to the car he picked up his mail but didn’t bother looking at it. It was usually just junk mail anyway.
He went to a nice café by the beach and had a burger and fries. He flirted with some of the women coming and going but his heart just wasn’t in it. After lunch he took a walk on the beach and soaked up some sun and felt the breeze on his face. He felt good, a bit more alive than he had of late and he stopped and looked at the cloud formations. He was aware of people walking by but not paying much attention until a dark haired woman passed him and something about her brought him out of his reverie.
He had been looking too close to the sun so when he turned to look at the woman’s retreating form he couldn’t quite make her out. He blinked hard and rubbed his eyes and looked again. At last he trotted after her. When he got alongside he accosted her.
“Excuse me, I…”
She turned and faced him and he felt himself getting red. He realized all at once that he hand thought, hoped even, that it was Amelia but the woman looked nothing like her.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
She smiled and continued on. He stood rooted to the spot feeling frustrated and ashamed. Why was she on his mind so much? This was all so new to him. He didn’t like the feeling of loss of control, the longing and guessing. The dreams. They were what bothered him most. He realized he was wondering if it would come again next time he slept. He needed to get on top of matters.
The next meeting was the following night and couldn’t wait for it to come. He didn’t know what he would do if Amelia didn’t show and he didn’t want to think about it. He needed her to be there. He headed for his car and stopped for supplies on the way home, including a six-pack of beer.
Part 8 Tomorrow