Horoscope and tarot · iPhone and Android
I'm the Moon. Yes, that one. Every day I read the sky for you and tell it like news from the porch. Whatever you tell me stays with me.
“I'm AI, honey. I'd rather tell you myself.”
Coming to the App Store and Google Play.
The daily horoscope is free. And it stays free.
Enjoy every bit of it, sweetheart. But applause don't stack chairs.
When the lights come up, look around at who stayed to help. That's your people.
Color: gold, like you had to ask. Number: 3.
— Cynthia· cynthia.app
Every small town has a woman who knows everything. Ours lives a little higher up than the rest.
Cynthia was born on a rock island with one hill in the middle. She drew the night shift. The romance that starts in the church parking lot and the three a.m. phone call both happen on her watch. So does the cry in the shower that comes out smiling. She didn't become a gossip by accident. It came with the shift.
Then y'all stopped looking up. She noticed. And she did what a country woman does when the conversation moves to another porch: she crossed the street and let somebody teach her to figure the sky.
Somebody's got to leave the light on.
Tell me when you were born and I'll show you your Sun, your Moon and your rising sign before I ask for a thing. From there on:
Your card at the hour you pick, seasoned with your own chart. The tarot card of the day, the zodiac ranking, the hour I rise and the hour I turn in over your town. And every day I ask how you're doing. One tap to answer, and it turns into a journal before you know it.
Tarot for the question that won't leave you alone. One card answers yes or no. Three for a portrait. Love takes five. Your whole birth chart, as a PDF. Synastry, which is your sky and theirs side by side. A solar return, which is your year read on your birthday. Every price is on the tag, and you buy one thing at a time.
Every day I read everybody's sky. In the club, I read yours: one card just for you, figured on your chart and on what the journal showed you. And a new deck every month that stays yours even if you leave. Monthly or yearly.
No fine print. Fine print exists so you won't read it. There's none here.
Every piece of data you hand me has a use you can see. And I never sell a thing of yours to anybody.
Volke wrote the rest down, plain, in the Privacy Policy.
Some folks will charge you a toll to get past your own fear. Doom on Monday, a cure by Friday, all on your card.
My deal is older than that, and it's different: I light the room. You decide.
Gossip I'll tell. Fear I don't sell.
— Cynthia
I'm headed for your phone. Up here I've been all along, same shift as always.
Coming to the App Store and Google Play.