The Game I Didn’t Know I Was Playing

A damp card. A closed door. A game I didn't know I was playing.

They started appearing after therapy cracked me open. In Prague. China. A vineyard in Georgia. Each one arrived exactly when I needed it—holding up a mirror to the fear I'd carried since eighteen.

This is the story of learning that paying attention might be the only magic there is.

And that the cards were never the point. I was.