Cheiromancy

She dismounts her bicycle, locks it to a rack and walks toward me. Her helmet still on and her right pant leg cuffed to her knee.

After I hug her she removes the helmet. Sets it on the ground. We sit together for more hours than I expect. Her exposed calf gets devoured by mosquitoes.

When she leans over to scratch I smell the summer on her sweaty shirt. It reminds me of fresh cut celery. I wonder if today I’ll read her palm. I want to see where all those lines go.

th

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