A forgotten melody hums in your left pocket today, echoing the syzygy of yesterday’s solar flare and a stranger’s whispered warning about an abandoned keychain. Your fingers will inadvertently sketch the contours of a forgotten skill on a dusty surface, reigniting a velleity for taxidermy that you’d long suppressed. Before midnight, the thixotropic shadows in your hallway will demand a choice between two unmarked envelopes, each bearing the weight of a different apocalypse.