The black rosary appeared in my left hand, wrapped loosely around my fingers. The spectral breeze carried the scent of fresh sweet water.
“Not yet, Mary. I’m to the Hanged Man in that deck, and I still have cards I could confuse with you left to confront. When I am finally able to give you and… your husband… my attention, I want it to be in full and complete.”
I closed my left hand on nothing and the breeze stopped.
That she is giving me space when my ancestors are not is indicative of something, but what the fuck do I know about spiritual things. -sigh-