Tattoos & Tarot
Bio
About T&T:
I’m newbie writer posting my thoughts and stories, and I’m always happy for any support and feedback! The name ”Tattoos & Tarot” embodies who I am - edgy, and a little bit witchy ✨
Stories (4/0)
Tiburón
The swells are full and frequent this morning, rocking us from side-to-side – not like cooing babies in a cradle, but more like prey waiting to be swallowed by the unforgiving and the unseen. Saltwater sprays and stings my dehydrated, cracked lips and glues my too-long hair to my cheek when the waves crash against the boat. The water is crisp, but not teeth-chattering cold and is a welcome contrast to the intense sun rays striking my wetsuit covered body. I’m starting to get a little too warm and I’m realizing I should have left the top half off, but it felt like too much effort at the time. I look away from the vast, cerulean waters to see my dive buddy, Torres, stumble towards me with his tall, lumbering frame and bouncing, already-tied-back curls.
By Tattoos & Tarot24 minutes ago in Fiction
How Do The Mountains Change?
They step out of the car onto crunching, clay-colored gravel. The temperature is cool this morning, but the summer sun will create a blistering heat soon – which is exactly why Nikki dragged her cranky daughter Alyssa out of bed. They walk toward the trail heads and Nikki chooses the longer loop with an annoyed eye roll and dramatic sigh from Alyssa. The loop will take them to Nikki’s favorite peak overlooking the valley.
By Tattoos & Tarot21 days ago in Fiction
The New Regular
Marcus steps out of the exceptionally cold fall night and into the warm, low lit bar. The weather would be quite comfortable if the wind didn’t bite through all his layers. He’s new to town and visiting different eateries and bars to find his new favorite. Wherever he goes, he picks one place to become a regular. He enjoys being known, even in the superfluous way waitstaff come to know him. It makes him feel less like a wandering ghost.
By Tattoos & Tarotabout a month ago in Fiction
Sleeping Afraid. Top Story - July 2024.
I always wake to three hallowing knocks that reverberate from the back of my skull through my teeth. That’s how I know it’s coming. The bitter metallic taste of adrenaline coats my tongue. Hot panic has its claws in my chest and sweat dews my forehead. Suspense and dread course through my veins and it takes all my strength to choose survival over succumbing to the debilitating fear. My ears twitch like a dog toward every noise and my breath comes hot against the hand that I pressed to my mouth to keep myself quiet. I need to slow my breathing…one breath in, hold, one breath out. I remove my hand from my mouth so I can ease myself out of bed and carefully place my feet onto the floor so as not to make a sound. I half-crouch and feel my way to the bedroom door, and slowly turn the knob. I know when to stop opening it to avoid the creak and I start making my way down the foreboding hallway. The floorboards give in pain as my weight shifts from one foot to the other, not quite walking, just easing my way forward. I feel another rush of dread drop into the pit of my stomach when I reach the stairs – they’re the hardest part. The old wood of the house moans with the weight of my fear and no matter how hard I try they always creak. I’ve learned the hard way that I have to do these quickly – it wakes and finds me with the sound of these godforsaken stairs. I stay in a low crouch, my legs on fire with the effort, as I place one foot on each stair using the handrail to guide myself down and take, albeit minimal, weight off the unforgiving wood.
By Tattoos & Tarot2 months ago in Fiction
