When I was 8, some friends of my parents had a party at their house. The main attraction was a palm reader they hired to entertain the guests. “You will marry someone from your childhood,” she told me. I squirmed at the thought of love or marriage; I still thought boys had cooties. This same palm reader also told a woman at the party that she would be separated from her husband of 20 years. A week later he died suddenly of a heart attack. Keep reading »
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