Pardon the Hanged Man

by Melanie Harris
My cheeks are blushing, but I'll admit it anyway.  I'm a trash scavenger.  While I won't actually go in to a trash can, if I see something of value sitting beside the can, I'll gladly take it for my own with only a slight sense of shame.  I excuse this rat like behavior by taking to heart the modern adage, "reduce, reuse, recycle."  I want to do my part, and besides, people throw away a lot of perfectly good items.

Judging by the quality and quantity of garbage gems I've collected, an amazing amount of treasure must lie decaying in our landfills.  I've found a snowsuit, 2 TVs, a brand new jacket, and about half the furnishings in my apartment.  What I found the other night, though, tops them all.

I was taking my dog for a walk, and admittedly, I was on the prowl.   As I scanned the nearby trash cans for useful stuff, my eyes lit up.  There it was: my Three of Wands.  My ship had come in!  It was a large rug, just the thing my son had been asking for but my wallet wouldn't allow.

I moved in for a closer look and I started unrolling the rug to see if it was in good shape.  I was surprised at how heavy it was; I could hardly lift the corner.

Being paranoid as I am, like my nemesis the Five of Swords, always on the look out for imminent tragedy, my mind raced to the worst conclusion.  

"What if there's a dead body rolled up in this?" I thought.

With nine wands around me, I took a few steps back and then approached again, hunched and alert, hesitant and on guard.  I got up my courage and tugged hard on the end of the rug.

The whole roll trembled, and a low grunt escaped into the icy air.  

I squealed like a mouse in a trap.

"Sorry...I'm homeless.  I'm sleeping in here!" a voice from the rug called out.

My rascal of a dog still silent and calm beside me, I was flooded with embarrassment and shock.  I felt like a jerk for drawing attention to the man's cozy hideout with my terrified shriek, especially since my dog hadn't barked at him, which meant that the man was clearly nice.  Apparently, my dog barks at anything and everything except people rolled up in rugs.

"Sorry," I said.  "I thought I had found just a rug..."

I hereby vow to repent from my trash scavenging ways.  I was very lucky; I could have just as easily discovered a homicidal maniac rolled up in that rug.

The next time I pass a trash can, or get The Moon or the High Priestess in a reading, I'm not going out of my way to find out what jewels of truth or trash treasure lie behind the veil.

What is hidden should sometimes stay concealed.  Once you unravel a mystery, is the mystery still intact?

No, just keep your scroll rolled until you're ready to show it, High Priestess.  Tell it to The Moon, dogs.  Keep a lid on it, trash bin.  I don't need to look too deep beneath the surface to know that it's often best to keep my nose well out.

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Tarot Reflections is published by the American Tarot Association - Copyright (C) 2007

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