* * *
We had about an hour before my bus left. It was raining. 'Palm Readings' the neon sign beckoned from beneath a dripping awning. Margaret and I paused, glancing sideways at one another. "Should we--?" she began, her grin growing wider with mischevious glee and matching my own.
"Oh yeah," I replied.
Madame Bella will read one palm for
(
Read more... )