[ WP ] Every morning you find a tarot card taped to your front door .

19th Feb 
 
 Death. Death on my front door. Death, dead centre on my front door, taped just beneath the knocker. 
 
 I've been alone a long time, I suppose. I worry that I'm fading out of civilised existence, becoming one of life's spectators. I did n't much feel like socialising after Emily died. This, though, this was a wake-up call. 
 
 Even life's spectators know that the tarot card Death does n't really mean death, in a literal sense. You can give that grim reaper all the shadowy facelessness and gleaming farming tools you like, but even the likes of CSI would go to pains to have a wise woman explain that death just means change, whether for good or bad. The question is - who is telling me to change? 
 
 Mother's been on at me for a while, but tarot cards are so hilariously not her style. My boss has definitely been throwing some worried looks my way, but as long as I continue to complete all the assignments she throws at me, I think she'll leave me alone. The veil of sympathy is enough, still, to draw about me like a shroud; all I have to do is go slightly too long without blinking, make my eyes that bit too watery, and anyone planning to have a little heart-to-heart with me, planning to invite me out to Dave from admin's birthday drinks, planning to ask what I did at the weekend... they all suddenly decide that maybe now's not the time. 
 
 I really ca n't think who it might be.
