“They show the future,” he says.
They’re on honeymoon, already talking about the children they’ll bring back here. “Five girls like you,” he says. It’s his idea to see the fortune-teller.
“Put them on,” he says. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
But that’s it. She doesn’t want to know.
2 comments:
She'd taken off her sunglasses, illuminating the scene. Through the prism of the smoky lens was a cast-iron shadow. Her heart contracted with pain and exposure to the heated crowd. If she could swallow those words back down with her gin and tonic, she would. Instead the lemon sliced away.
Nice.
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