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The


                 Palm Reader




                                 Rome, Italy






            The Roman palm reader—as she appeared to those around her in this

            time and place—watched the boy from a distance. He was unaware
            of everything but the water spilling from the Trevi Fountain. The
            boy stood at the fountain’s edge and wished for home. The woman
            smelled the wish on the air, more delicious than the spicy scent of

            tomato sauce from the nearby pizzeria. She smiled and reached into
            her faded woven bag, the sun reflecting off the heart tattoos along
            her arm. The coin would have a new owner today.
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