The fortune teller smiled at Mak, his toothless betel-blackened gums barely visible in the pale light of dawn.
Mak said, “It is a beautiful morning to see the sunrise, my friend.”
The fortune teller shrugged. He was half-naked and dirty, and his leathery skin reminded Mak of a crocodile’s hide. Mak had no idea of the fortune teller’s age, but no one in the neighborhood remembered a time when he hadn’t been telling fortunes on this corner . . .
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- The Grantville Gazette Staff