I had a dream last night, a strange dream, a dream where I traveled to an exotic, South American land and encountered an open-air bazaar.
There, in the back, stood a table covered in red cloth. On the table were four clay cups, and four small, clay disks. The seller of these wares sat with his head resting on his crossed arms. He appeared to be crying.
When I woke up this morning, the only thing I could remember were the cups and disks, and the sad young man who was trying to sell them.
These few items were all he had to offer.
I have no knowledge of the tarot, so I don’t know what the meaning – if any – could be. This dream has haunted me all day.
There must be a message in there, somewhere.
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