Palm Reading

My interest in the occult was partly due to a classmate’s influence. Told of some fantastic theories about telepathy and mind reading, I was hooked immediately.

One time, we were eating out in a small food joint, he noticed two female students at the next table. They were from a neighboring all-girls’ school. I did not have to read his mind because I could interpret his body language that he was interested in knowing them personally.

“Watch and learn!” He was not handsome but his glibness was a gift he used to his advantage,

I came over to give him company, quiet by his side, trying to pick up free lessons in connecting with the opposite sex.

“Girls, do you want to know your future?”

Both of them listened to what he had to say, one was utterly suspicious while the other smiled, eager to play the game.

“I know palmistry,” he bragged. “I can give you a free reading if you want.”

The smiling girl readily gave her right hand, She was too friendly that I thought she fell for my classmate at first sight.

“You will meet the man of your dreams in a cafeteria like this one,” my classmate said as he stroked her palm a bit affectionately. “He might be even here now.”

That was crap, I thought. Even I could invent such silly line.

“What about me?” the suspicious one asked. “I also want to know my future.”

“Let me see.” My classmate moved to the other side of the table, taking her hand without permission.

“Tell me,” she was anxious, her suspicion diminished.

“I am sorry,” my classmate shook his head. “You are destined to be a spinster.”

She was less attractive to my classmate’s view. That’s why the negative reading.

Without warning, I heard a hard slap on a face. I knew it was not mine because I did not feel a stinging sensation.

“Come on,” the spinster-to-be ordered, holding her companion’s arm, leading her out the joint.

My classmate’s puzzled look needed answers.

“I don’t like you flirting with my younger sister.”

When they were gone, my classmate approached me, embarrassed for his failure.

“You know, I can also read palms,” I offered.

“How is that?”

“I could see the lines of her palm on your cheek.”

BLOGGING   LIFE/STYLES   MY STORIES   WHISPER   ZONE

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