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Showing posts from April, 2016

A Gypsy Told Me So

I was 17 when I visited my best friend in San Francisco. We'd know each other since elementary school and as a birthday gift, she got me a plane ticket to see her. I'd never been to California and everything I saw amazed me and looked better than anything we had at home. We were walking down the hilly streets of the city when a gypsy lady stopped us.  "Palm reading?" she asked.  It was the first time I'd ever seen a gypsy in person. Large hoops, a scarf purple scarf tied around her head, and a mole on her chin. I shook my head.  "I'll read yours for free," she said point her gnarled finger at me.  I looked back at my friend, up and down the street that suddenly seemed empty, and held out my hand. What the hell? It was free?               She stared and the dips and valleys of my palm and the deep dark lines that have always made my hands looked older. She looked up and said, "You have a writer's hand. It can tell great stories..."           …