Does the palm reader tell from lines deepened and extended by time, or in the creases of birth and predetermined fate? Do the ruts and chasms criss-crossing like doodling designs created by a madman mixing a cauldron of witch’s brew depend upon fate already set, or can the future be altered by choices one foresees? And what of the face — the creases around one’s mouth, the ruts above the furrowed brow, or the fine filaments of timeless cuts around the eyes; do they tell a story of joy and promise, or of sadness and sorrow? […]