Sarah Sage | Rerouted by Omens
@reroutedbyomens.bsky.social
Writer, traveler, and illustrator exploring the absurd beauty of being human. Collecting omens from airports, altitudes, and absurd situations. Occasionally found in a yoga shala, on a mountain pass, or upside down in rope.
reroutedbyomens.substack.com
reroutedbyomens.substack.com
The geckos have taken up their night shift again, clicking from the walls like tiny security guards with supernatural job titles. Locals say they protect the house, which feels plausible, because they patrol with the confidence of creatures who’ve read their own mythology.
November 15, 2025 at 12:02 AM
The geckos have taken up their night shift again, clicking from the walls like tiny security guards with supernatural job titles. Locals say they protect the house, which feels plausible, because they patrol with the confidence of creatures who’ve read their own mythology.
As it rained last night the snails staged their usual pilgrimage into my living room.
They arrive with the quiet determination of tiny monks, glistening with purpose, though absolutely none of them seem to know where they’re going.
I respect this level of commitment to aimless wandering.
They arrive with the quiet determination of tiny monks, glistening with purpose, though absolutely none of them seem to know where they’re going.
I respect this level of commitment to aimless wandering.
November 12, 2025 at 11:28 PM
As it rained last night the snails staged their usual pilgrimage into my living room.
They arrive with the quiet determination of tiny monks, glistening with purpose, though absolutely none of them seem to know where they’re going.
I respect this level of commitment to aimless wandering.
They arrive with the quiet determination of tiny monks, glistening with purpose, though absolutely none of them seem to know where they’re going.
I respect this level of commitment to aimless wandering.