Tonight, dear Capricorn, the leaden stars align in a foreboding arch that forewarns the clamour of restless spirits. The shadow of the Goat, your celestial watcher, is draped in an eerie shroud, distorted and inscrutable, more menacing than comforting. It speaks in whispers that mamaudle the soul, punctuated by an adamantine cold that prickles the skin with silent dread. The landscape of your dreams will likely teem with ancient shadows, those echoes of forgotten fears that frolic in the inky blackness. From what crypt they come, these interlopers of serene sleep, no man can rightly tell.

Tread lightly, Capricorn, avert your gaze from windows where the night presses its face, seeking entrance into your secure hearth. Under no circumstances should you answer the midnight knock – for it is an uncanny guest that calls at such unholy hours. Remember, in your fireplace, let the flames dance undisturbed; their capricious flicker may conjure spectres only visible in the eerie glow of their incandescent ballet. Do not let their phantom-dance bewitch your eyes. Live this day in thoughtful steps, be vigilant, but never let the creeping dread lay claim to your spirit. In the gloom of today find solace in that even the most terrible darkness surrenders itself to the dawn.