Enjoy the more creative aspect of tarot by delving into Courts and Others. A beautiful form of tarot storytelling, weaved by Lucy Voss, and a great way to understand courts and suits of tarot.

The Queen of Pentacles was sitting up in bed with a mug of tea. The King of Wands was opening and shutting drawers impatiently, and huffing to himself. Finally he turned to his wife. “The underwear drawer is empty,” he said indignantly. The Queen looked over the top of her mug but did not say anything.

“There are no pants or socks.” “Have you looked on the floor, dear?” asked the Queen. “Or under the bed?” “Why would I look on the floor or under the bed?”snapped the King. “Because that’s where your underwear usually is,” replied the Queen. “That’s after I’ve taken it off,” said the King. “I’m looking for clean underwear and you tell me to look under the bed. Whoever heard of keeping clean underwear under the bed?” “No-one keeps clean underwear under the bed,” said the Queen, “but you just leave your stuff on the floor, under the bed or on the chair. When you take it off you are supposed to put it into the laundry basket, and then when I do a load of washing your stuff gets washed.”

The Queen sat up straight. “I have taken an executive decision: from now on if you leave dirty clothes – of any kind – on the floor, under the bed or on the chair, then I will assume you do not want them to go in the washer so I will leave them. It’s not difficult to put things in the laundry basket, you just have to remember to do it. No clothes in basket, no clean clothes.”

The King went anxiously to the wardrobe. “No clean shirts!” he thundered. “No,” said the Queen. “What am I going to wear, then?” “Either you wear something of yesterday’s or the week before last’s for all I care, or you could always wear nothing. If I didn’t think you would manage to wreck the washer simply by looking at it I would show you how to do your own washing then we wouldn’t need to have this kind of discussion.”

“Do my own washing???” The King was thunderstruck.

The Queen took a sip of tea and smiled.


The King of Swords was sitting in the hall. His case was neatly packed and labelled, and his hand luggage contained a tablet, some guide books, lists of places to visit. His money and travel documents were in the inner breast pocket of his jacket. Upstairs was the sound of drawers opening and closing, feet going to and fro between the bathroom and the bedroom while the Queen of Cups put together some holiday clothes and toiletries and shoved them all anyhow into a soft bag. She then discovered she couldn’t find her other sandal. After unpacking she found it on the bed beside her bag, then rammed everything back in anyhow, sunscreen, shampoo, clothes – all in a tangle.

“The taxi will be here soon,” the King called up the stairs. “What time? I haven’t had a shower yet.” “There won’t be time for a shower,” said the King. “Why couldn’t you have packed last night, anyway?” “Oh, I can’t be doing with all this preparation and forward thinking,” said the Queen, “it takes away the enchantment of the holiday.” “Yes, well, if you overdo the enchantment we’ll miss the plane. Get a move on.”

The Queen appeared shortly after this exchange with her bag and festooned with several awkwardly- packed cloth bags. “Perhaps there’ll be time for a decent wash at the airport,” she said.

Once in the taxi the Queen proceeded to unpack the cloth bags and rearrange the contents. “Look,” said the King, “you can put this and this and this all together in this one bag, and the two empty bags can go in that bag, and then you’ll only have the soft bag, one cloth bag and your handbag.”

There was a silence. A prolonged silence. “You have brought your handbag, haven’t you?” said the King. After some panicked scrabbling among her other luggage the Queen gasped and said “Noooooo,….. Ooooh,…… It’s got my passport and money and stuff. I think it’s on the kitchen table, but I can’t remember. Oh, what am I going to doooo?”

After a pause while the King glared at the Queen, he instructed the taxi to turn round and take them home. Something like this always happened. So the taxi had been ordered for an hour earlier than necessary.

(c) Lucy Voss

%d bloggers like this: