She stopped the car and opened the door. The air was moist and slightly chill but mostly fragrant with the ending of winter and imminent arrival of spring. Her hubcap was leaning, propped against the upside of the hill. She picked it up and tossed it into the back seat then walked around to the other side of the car. The front tire of that side was bare too. The went to the cliffside and looked down into the brambles. Maybe she saw it there, maybe she had lost it miles back–she wasn’t going to descend into a ravine to get it. She got back into her car and continued.
She came to the trailhead some time later.
She parked her car along the forest road and grabbed up her red backpack which contained her water bottle, book, some snacks, and extra clothing in case it rained. Overhead the sun was later in the day than she would have liked–or her mother would have liked because it would probably be getting dark by the time she would make her descent, she thought. Dangerous, to be sure.
With her backpack slung over one arm she closed the car door, then opened it again. She bent in and grabbed her cellphone, unplugging it from the car-charger. It lit up and underneath the lock screen she saw the outline of the astrology app she had opened but not read. Still looking at the screen she closed the car door behind her. She types in her passcode with one hand on her phone, with the other she thumbs her car fob to lock the doors.
On the screen is a symbol of a jar upturned and water spilling out of it–or perhaps it is air. Since she is Aquarius she suspects it is air. A creak of from a tree overhead, the call of a bird. A twinge in her stomach for looking into the screen of her phone now that she had made it to the mountain. She wasn’t a superstitious person in general, no, instead she was highly rational at times. She had a flashlight and her phone with her, she assured her mother–even if she got lost while hiking, she would be able to call someone–and because of this rational she hadn’t bought into the whole religion thing either. It was still a source of tension within the family. But for some reason her horoscope had always appealed, if not for pure guidance, than at least for an interesting looking glass.
She flitted her thumb over the phone and watched text cycling by. It wasn’t a long horoscope, and maybe that was why she read it. Or maybe it was fate, though she didn’t really believe in fate, or that things happened for a reason, or that an internet horoscope could have any validity on her life at all. But still–she leaned back, propping herself on her car and with the fresh air and sounds of creaking forest and chirping birds began read.