Today, you Pisces, life echoes an ancient manuscript written by a solitary monk in a long-vanished abbey, who chanced to spill a drop of blood in its pages, summoning what should not be summoned. Under your delicate facade, a shiver rends the waters, whispering unwanted narratives. The veil between your dualistic world and that of the unseen grows perilously slim. Those antediluvian dreams that lately have left your nights unrested, are poised to break their chains and spill into your waking life.

The moon, pocked as with some unhallowed pestilence, waxes sibylline in the inky skies, casting malign shadows on the facades of your life and offering strange suggestions. Be on your guard, but not against the familiar. No, the danger that watches from the edges of your reality bears no mundane countenance. As ephemeral as the demesne of sleep, as incomprehensible as madness – this is where your attention must rove. Be vigilant, Pisces. For the border betwixt your reality and the nightmare realm is crumbling as crumbling parchment in a scholar’s trembling hand. Beware the waning hours of this day. Let no unturned page seduce you with its secrets; it may be written in a tongue man was never meant to utter.