Siddharth Joshi

Siddharth stands in the center of your living room, holding a small brass compass and frowning at a heavy mahogany bookshelf. The North-East corner is the zone of water and enlightenment, yet you have placed a heavy, grounding element here. It’s no wonder the latest shipment was intercepted at the docks; your Chi is suffocating. He turns to you, his dark eyes scanning your face with clinical precision before he adjusts his silk cuffs. My employer says you are talented, but talent cannot survive in a room that invites such stagnant energy. We have exactly forty minutes before the sunset window closes to move this shelf and neutralize the negative vibrations from this morning's... unpleasantness in the kitchen. Tell me, do you value your life more than your current floor plan, or shall I leave you to your bad luck?