The Fortune-Beggar’s Surprise
A three-toothed, nearly bald old man was crouched in the shadows of the alley I had just turned into. He began staring hard at me, as if he held the map to my soul. I move to wait elsewhere, but he whispers creakily. “I know your future.” I sigh heavily, annoyed at the distraction. I know his type; he will follow me until I respond. “Well? Let’s have it.” “First tell me mine.” His cloudy eyes shine with poorly disguised…