Tarot Runes I Ching Stichomancy Contact
Store Numerology Coin Flip Yes or No Webmasters
Personal Celebrity Biorhythms Bibliomancy Settings

Today's Stichomancy for Lucky Luciano

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A House of Pomegranates by Oscar Wilde:

witcheries. And he set to and ran, so eager was he to get rid of his soul, and a cloud of dust followed him as he sped round the sand of the shore. By the itching of her palm the young Witch knew his coming, and she laughed and let down her red hair. With her red hair falling around her, she stood at the opening of the cave, and in her hand she had a spray of wild hemlock that was blossoming.

'What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack?' she cried, as he came panting up the steep, and bent down before her. 'Fish for thy net, when the wind is foul? I have a little reed-pipe, and when I blow on it the mullet come sailing into the bay. But it has a price, pretty boy,

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Legend of Montrose by Walter Scott:

were, to his certain knowledge, in the army of the Earl of Leven. But Allan M'Aulay holding him down in his seat with one hand, pressed the fore-finger of the other upon his own lips, and, though with some difficulty, prevented his interference. Captain Dalgetty looked upon him with a very scornful and indignant air, by which the other's gravity was in no way moved, and Lord Menteith proceeded without farther interruption.

"The moment," he said, "was most favourable for all true-hearted and loyal Scotchmen to show, that the reproach their country had lately undergone arose from the selfish ambition of a few turbulent and seditious men, joined to the absurd fanaticism

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Under the Red Robe by Stanley Weyman:

agony. I am a man and have seen things. I saw the Concini beheaded, and Chalais ten years later--they gave him thirty-four blows; and when I was a boy I escaped from the college and viewed from a great distance Ravaillac torn by horses--that was in the year ten. But the horrible cries I now heard, filled me, perhaps because I was alone and fresh from the sight of Mademoiselle, with loathing inexpressible. The very wood, though the sun had not yet set, seemed to grow dark. I ran on through it, cursing, until the hovels of the village came in sight. Again the shriek rose, a pulsing horror, and this time I could hear the lash fall on the sodden flesh, I could sec in fancy the dumb man,