SOLSC '18 Day Twenty-four: The fortune teller

The castle, long gone to ruin, stood just off the country road in the middle of a green field.  Though missing a roof, the walls were still in good standing, and served as the border for some of the festival offerings. 

We wandered from booth to booth.  Smells of bratwurst and beer and gluhwein wafted with the summer breezes.  German voices mixed with American English, punctuated with laughter from both in this joint effort of celebration.

One of the vendors was making delicate crowns of flowers and ribbons.  I asked my parents if I could have one; in a few moments, a wreath was gently resting on my head, ribbons floating down the back of my hair, picked up now and then by the breeze.

A few booths and tables were scattered inside the castle walls.  I approached one that advertised palm readings. An older German woman smiled from behind the draped table and greeted me in English.  I placed a few Deutsche marks on the table and sat down in the offered chair.  

The woman gently took my left hand into both of hers, and turned it palm side up, tilting it ever so slightly toward her.  She traced the lines, following how far they went over the sides of my palms and in the dip by my thumb.

"You love deeply," she said, "but think more from your head than your heart.  As a child, you got along with adults better than other children.  When you are upset, you tend to feel it in your stomach, not your head."

"This line, here, is your lifeline.  It is long and strong, but there is a break in it.  Somewhere in your...thirties?  Forties?  There will be something that happens that seems bad, but is really for the best, because your life line continues strong after that." 

She squeezed my hand, and let go with a smile.  I thanked her, and spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze, wondering how she could accurately read my past...and if her predictions of my future would hold up as well.