“They say that our universe exists as a pipeline for carrying the void from one place to another.” She spoke with that unmotivated tone common to government-employed oracles. “Your chart exemplifies this principle. You were born while the moon was in the house of the locomotive constellation, which is carrying darkness between two of our neighboring realities.”

“Why would darkness be trafficked, and not light?” Her client asked. He wasn’t superstitious, but was still required to pass an astrological screening before he could be employed by the post office.

“Market liquidity,” the teller replied. She was used to clients being uneasy with this concept. “Light is darkness that has already decided exactly what it wants to be. A photon is a photon until the day it burns out. The unoccupied space between the stars, however, has the potential to become anything, which is why it is always in demand. There’s an old proverb, ‘an empty crate is worthless to humans and priceless to gods.’ I think it was Mark Twain who said it. Probably.”

“And what does this mean for me?”

“It means you’re carrying a large amount of potential that will not be realized until your next life.” She shrugged. “You’re only in this universe temporarily, a passenger. You might’ve been driven out of the old one, you might’ve left willingly, but either way, your spirit was unable to live where you came from. Unfortunately for you, this is not only considered an indicator of future poor performance, but is also classified as smuggling under the law.”

“Wait, what!?”

She stamped a massive red ‘X’ on his star chart and handed him a copy. “Your forms will finish processing sometime within the next two months, after which point there will likely be a court summons. Personally, I would recommend getting your shadow amputated before that happens.”