I am Cursed (and it's Horse Related)

This Horse Related Curse is Madness

"Is something wrong?" I asked, watching her tranquil face grow nervous by the second. Her blinks quickened, as if she was fighting for control with whatever was hidden behind her eyelids.

"There's only one death card in the deck," she finally said. The candle matched the quiver in her voice.

"So how come there are two on the table?"

Silence. Complete silence.

Flip over the third card, my heart suggested.

"Should I flip over the final card?" I asked.

"No." Her voice was colder than a sudden snowstorm. The candle on the table flickered as if it was caught in an angry draft. "No. You should—"

FLIP OVER THE THIRD CARD, my heart demanded. Without thinking I reached my hand out.

Darkness. The room was plunged into complete darkness.

Before the abyss fully set in, however, before the world went black— I saw it. A third death card, the grim reaper was nothing but a faint outline in the blinding rays of a burning sun. All that I could make out in the split second before the candle went out was the horse that the skeleton rode on— it was the same familiar horse.

We sat in the darkness for what felt like an eternity until I felt her touch my arm. Her grip was ethereal but firm. Without words she led me to the door of the apartment. She did not ask for payment, she did not question me about the horse. She simply told me to never return.

Soon enough the screeches and shouts of Prague's downtown filled my ears once more.

The chicken in my Texas Grander seemed undercooked and the fries tasted like mashed potatoes, but at least the clerk let me use a phone charger. As soon as I had enough battery to turn on the phone I did another frantic Google of "Cursed Horse". All that came up were Red Dead Redemption 2 strategy guides and pinterest blogs. I gave up. I decided I would just try to ignore the situation at home and enjoy the view from the I.P. Pavlova KFC.

ISN'T SOMEONE GOING TO DO SOMETHING?

Right outside of the window there was a makeshift tent. The crowds, the trams, the cars; all of the usual trappings of rush hour somehow existed next to the climate protest.

REPROGRAM! REBEL! REFLECT!

Worrisome signs were hung from the edges of the tent yet at its edge sat a ukulele circle of teens in tie-dye. Even though the trams were constantly spilling out crowds of busy looking people the protesters seemed to be in the depths of a heartfelt musical performance. Off to the side, trying to communicate the seriousness of climate change to the rushing commuters, were two other teens dressed in matching charity t-shirts.

HOW CAN WE LET THIS HAPPEN?

Some of the commuters took their fliers but most just rushed on past. A woman who must have looked beautiful when color television was a novelty took umbrage with what the protesters had to say. One of the teens produced a bar chart filled with apocalyptic spikes. This did not solve the argument.

EXTINCTION! IT WILL HAPPEN TO US! WE MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!

Right beneath the text there was a collection of skull pictures. One of them belonged to a human. One of them belonged to the horse. For a moment I wondered whether an animal was capable of comprehending climate change, whether we as a species were even capable of comprehending climate change— but then I found myself thinking about the horse again.

It was early in the afternoon but I knew what was waiting for me at home around midnight. The horse; I had gotten no closer to getting rid of it. I was tired and exhausted and alone in a world I couldn't comprehend. Sitting in that KFC I felt like a man at the edge of a cliff.