Saturday, December 17, 2011

Not your fate

 Yesterday I didn't feel like going home after work. So I went downtown, and made my self comfrortable in the first bar I run into. It was a nice and quiet place. Kinda warm also actually, every furniture made of wood, some mirrors on the walls and some nice paintings, of ship and landscape. There are only a few people around, a couple on the table in the back making out, two guys next to the door talking loud about the girls they had sex with, the bartender cleaning some glasses, me smoking my cigarette and a guy next to me by himself, drinking slowing his whiskey.

The door opens and a gypsy came in asking for charity. She went to the guys at first but sent her away loudly, then she talked to the couple in the back but they didn't pay any attention. Then she reached for the guy next to me. This guy looked really lost in his thoughts, his deep stare at the picture infront of him told me that. He was about forty I guess, he was wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt, and next to him he had his lether jacket. He didn't seem in the mood for chating but the gypsy insisted.

 She offered to read his palm. The guy answered bold he didn't believe in these kind of nonsense. She would not leave him alone so he just let her do it so she would let him be.

 She looked at it with great interest. She told him that he will die young, because his life line is short.

 He looks at her and laughs. He takes out a pocket knife, put it against his palm and made the line longer, with a huge satisfying smile upon his wrinkled face.





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