“My sun line?”
“The sun line is for popularity and success. The longer and deeper and more parallel to your fate line, the more you will have of both. You have very little line at all.”
“I see.” I nod pitifully.
“You’re struggling to make change. It holds you back. You think you should be somewhere else, and it makes you angry that you are only here. You feel average. Ordinary. Average job. Average house. Average car.”
“Below average on the car front,” I whisper to myself, picturing the former hearse that was the only thing I could afford before hastily leaving London.
“But you do not make the changes,” she says. I feel like she’s personally attacking me. “You are waiting for something, but life seems to move forward without you.”
I nod slowly. I was waiting. Waiting for her to tell me when it would all get better.
“You are lonely... ,” she says again.
“Yes. Lonely. Average. Ordinary. Got it,” I say.
“Fine. Then, love,” she says.
“Love,” I breathe, biting my lip as I feel the heat rushing into my cheeks.
“You are searching forsomeoneto make you feel whole,” she says as I nod along, engrossed. “But what is really missing isyou.”
She flips my hand so she’s looking at the side of my palm, below the small finger, and runs a thumb across the lines.
“But I feel children. And, yes, a great, romantic love.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she repeats.
“Does it say where? Or who?”
She closes her eyes now. I watch her head tilt slightly as she stares into my future, then looks back at me.
“I see great height. A tall man. Warm. Kind. I see the ocean. Someone who spends time with their passions. A lot of work with his hands. I see many people around him. You know him imminently.”
“Imminently?”
“It meansvery soon.”
“Yes.” I yelp. “Really? Very soon?”
“But... ,” she begins again.
“But?”
“There is something in the way,” she says, tugging on my hand. “Somethings you need to fix before it all comes together.”
“Fix?” I say, my heart quickening. The idea that I could, at last, have an action plan... thrilling. “What do I need to fix?”
“There are problems that need attention. When these are fixed, he will reveal himself to you.”
“Does this mean I won’t meet him until whatever it is, is fixed? I thought the meeting was imminent?” I can hear my voice rising in excitement, but I can’t stop.
“He is—” Suddenly, her grip on my hand tightens as if she’s squeezing the juice out of an orange. She throws her head back and yowls. It’s a deep, long, guttural moan, much like the sound a transforming werewolf would make. Then she doubles forward,releases her grip on my hand, and clutches at her bump, her legs spreading wide as she breathes heavily out.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” she shouts.
