The End

The fortune teller wasn't open, maybe she could have told me our plane would leave late, with the knowledge of our low fares airline, maybe she could have predicted that we would drink tea today and eat Sunday Roast, maybe my dark circles would reveal my likely late night this evening and my Nikon that I would be uploading photos.

You obsess over things that have yet to happen, we concern our Futures with their future, and our own future, from day one. If it is written in the stars or on the palms of my hands makes little difference because judgement will always be collected from lines of past.