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P. 6
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.