My job is not an easy one. But it is a rewarding one. Sure, if you’d asked me ten years ago if I’d ever rise to fame as a writer of horoscopes for mythological creatures, I’d have inquired about the mind-altering chemicals you’d ingested and then, depending on my mood, either suggested rehab or asked whether you’d be willing to share. Alas, no one can see into the future. Well, I mean, I kind of do. Horoscopes and all that. And before you accuse me of dealing in astrological hokum, I’d like to regale you with tales of some of my most recent “forecasts” and how they’ve come or are coming to fruition.

First, just under three weeks ago, Chester came clomping up to me on the street and thanked me for helping him get a new job. Chester is a centaur and also an Aquarian, which is an air sign. If you didn’t know any better, you might assume that it’s a water sign. This just proves the intricate and mysterious nature of astrology. It’s exciting, really. So if you weren’t interested before, you should be now. Anyhow, Chester’s horoscope on the day that he applied for that job told him that it was a day to “go forth with confidence and seize opportunities!” So he suited up, picking the most stylish tie that would accent his bare, rippling, muscular chest, and polished his horseshoes to a sheen. And I’ll be damned if he didn’t get that job!

Then, about ten days ago, I received a letter from a hydra, postmarked from the Lake of Lerna. This hydra had been lamenting never being able to find love, given its disagreeable nature and poisonous breath. (The poor creature had to have the letter transcribed by a kind Selkie while in human form, donning a gas mask.) The hydra was a Pisces, which IS a water sign. So go figure. But the thing with those born under the Pisces sign is that they can be very indecisive. In the hydra’s case, this was compounded by having multiple heads. The hydra had recently learned about the option to be a subject in an experimental surgery that could remove the poison from its breath and blood to make it more desirable, or at least not deadly, to others. It was unsure if it wanted to go under the knife. But then, it read in its horoscope that day that it should “go forth with confidence and seize opportunities!” The hydra did just that. And though the poison could not be completely removed, the hydra found love with an itinerant koala whose system that could handle the poison of the eucalyptus made it also able to tolerate the hydra’s reduced toxicity. It’s a classic love story, really. And if that doesn’t pull on your heartstrings, you may be a sociopath. Or a Virgo.

Perhaps you’re still not convinced of my ability to prophesy. Well, I’ve saved the best for last. Just three days ago, I received an email from a banshee named Bertha. She struggled with her role in the world as a loud harbinger of death. She said she didn’t feel it was really in her wheelhouse. Bertha told me she was a quiet and introspective type, an emotional and nurturing creature. Classic Cancer, I thought. Yet, not compelled to leave the comfort of her mother’s womb (also classic Cancer), she was born under the fire sign of Leo. She’d recently been trying to embrace the naturally confident and charismatic nature possessed by Leos. I encouraged her to do just that and shared with her her horoscope for that day, which read, “Go forth with confidence and seize opportunities!” Bertha transformed from a shy wallflower to an emboldened screamer of impending tragedy. It was really beautiful.

So yeah. Writing horoscopes is not just a bunch of hooey. It’s the real deal. I’ve even befriended some of my readers. Bertha is coming by later, in fact. She says she has something she needs to share with me. My gut, which is rarely wrong, tells me it’s gonna be something good.

WRITING PROMPT: You have a job writing horoscopes for mythological creatures.