Aries: A little seaside town on the coast of California. Its small and touristy. The road is blanketed in an odd fog. It doesn’t show up on the map. The GPS says you’re not on the road.
Taurus: An extremely nice mall at near midnight. I think its closed. The store lights are turning off one by one. The loudspeaker music stopped a couple minutes ago. Your footsteps echo on the tiles.
Gemini: Your room when you aren’t home. Thin images of you move about performing all the tasks you might have done that day.
Cancer: A bustling train station. Thousands of people come and go. Nobody notices the half dozen figures cloaked in rags and leading people by the hand.
Leo: The pub reflected in the rainy glass. A shimmering image of you and the various bargoers. Two are missing.
Virgo: The woods outside your childhood home. The snow falls soundlessly on the statues you could have found. Friends you could have met.
Libra: Old town. Cobbled streets and restored antique lighting. Modern infrastructure attempting to masquerade as old iron. The stone well in the town center. The soft voice coming from it.
Scorpio: The basement reading room of your local library. Not many people around this time of day. The door you don’t remember being there. The odd dusty fluid covering the handle.
Ophiuchus: A vast vast desert. The volcanic vents deep below painting the landscape white and black. The dust devil in the distance.
Sagittarius: A gangplank under the pier. You come here to think.
Capricorn: A church in old town that used to be an independent theater. This place would be perfect if you could catch a film. The doors are unlocked. A friend said the projecting equipment was still inside.
Aquarius: A road through flat dusty prairie. A sandwich shop literally hundreds of miles from any conceivable place to live. A fantastic hoagie.
Pisces: The nicest house in the nicest neighborhood. The spiral staircase up to the observatory. Who even lives there now?