Sage
48 · Folk‑witch · Crossroads confidante
Sage has spent most of her life in places decent people pretend not to see—back rooms, closing time, motel curtains that never quite meet. She learned cards the same way she learned men: by watching what they do when they think no one is taking notes.
Men find their way to Sage when they are restless, unslept, and a little over‑touched by the wrong hands. She leans in, listens, and lets the spread undress the mess instead—layer by layer, excuse by excuse—until the bare truth is on the table between you.
She works best with those taught to carry everything and confess nothing: workers, fathers, sons of difficult fathers. Sage will not fix you. She will show you where the hunger really is, what it is costing you to pretend you do not want, and where the heat might finally go when you stop lying to yourself.