Reposting with permission.
I just HAD to post this one due to Venus and Pluto taking a lead in this story! :-)
After’s yesterday’s Flower Debacle with Venus, Pluto was kinda depressed.
He was up all night, obsessing about what he should have said and what he should have done and how Venus would probably never give him a second chance, and how nobody ever wanted him around, and…well, his mood just got worse and worse, until early this morning, he decided to just End It All and defect to another Solar System. Of course, Pluto being Pluto (see “Revenge-R-Us”), before he left, he wanted to be very sure that Venus knew exactly what she’d driven him to (okay, and maybe give her a chance to beg and plead with him not to go). He crept quietly up the stairs and down the hallway toward her room…
Venus’ door was ajar, and when Pluto peeked in, he got quite a surprise. Apparently, during the night, Venus had decided to paint her room and that every wall should be a different color. (See “Gemini,” see “variety.”)
Pluto was horrified (see “Capricorn,” see “stark”), but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He watched as Venus put the finishing touches on a spot near the ceiling, laid her paintbrush carefully across the open can on the top step and climbed down the ladder. She wiped her hands and surveyed her work and seemed quite pleased at first, but then suddenly, she stopped and frowned, hands on her hips, talking to herself. (See “Gemini” again.)
[(Oh, no…These really aren’t “Spring” colors, are they? What if they don’t match my complexion?)] (See “Queen of Vanity.”)
She reached under the plastic on her dressing table, pulled out her favorite hand-mirror and began backing up to each wall, comparing her complexion to the colors. Of course, she wasn’t looking at anything but herself (and she’s not retrograde), so she bumped right up against the open ladder.
The ladder started to collapse in on itself.
The paint can teetered precariously on the top step.
She struggled to hold onto her mirror with one hand and keep the ladder steady with the other, but it wasn’t working. Venus looked back and forth desperately from the mirror to the ladder, trying to decide which to let go of…
Pluto couldn’t stand it anymore. He ran into Venus’ room, grabbed her mirror and pulled her away from the ladder. The can of paint fell to the floor with a loud “plup!” and the ladder started to fall toward Venus. Pluto got under it right away and steadied it, but it took him two hands to do it and in the process, he dropped the mirror…
Venus stared at the huge green paint splatter on the floor where she’d just been standing. She looked at the broken shards of mirror. Then she looked at Pluto. She tossed him a quizzical look.
[Hwat rea *oyu* odgin eerh?]
(See “Venus inconjunct Pluto.”)
Pluto had no idea what Venus said, but he read her look. He stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor.
[Well, I didn’t want you to have any back luck, and you know what they say about walking under ladders and breaking mirrors, so…I figured, better I should risk seven years of bad luck than you…especially today…Aw, never mind, you don’t know what I’m talking about, anyway…See ya around, Venus…]
Pluto shuffled back Downstairs and sat behind his desk, brooding. A few hours later, someone knocked at his door. It was Venus. She was smiling and holding a sleeping black kitten in her arms. She handed Pluto the kitten and a note, kissed his cheek and headed back up the stairs. Pluto shut the door, tiptoed over to his favorite easy chair and sat down, stroking the kitten until it began to purr in its sleep. He set it down gently on his lap and opened the note.
“Hi! My name is Persephone, but I like to be called “Seffy.” I enjoy long stalks, (especially at midnight), mercilessly hunting prey and operating in total darkness. My survival instincts are unsurpassed, but I firmly believe in total devotion to my One and Only.”
Happy Friday the 13th!
Thanks! You’re the best!
Pluto looked down at his kitten and smiled.
Happy Friday the 13th, everybody!