Sometimes people ask me what my birthday is and then shake their heads in a condescending huff in response to my answer.
“Sagittarius,” they exclaim. “No wonder.”
Or they say: “God, you’re such an INFP. So typical.”
From there, they proceed to laugh, rubbing salt in a wound carved into my heart by people insulting my date of birth or the results of a test that I took while I was delirious. Yes, I know this pain firsthand.
I decided I had enough. It was time for the victim to become the victimizer. It was time to take my fate into my own hands, or rather, take the hands of others in my own and foretell their fate as a palm reader.
I found instructions on WikiHow, the holy grail of every oddly specific query. After reading it, I was armed with the knowledge to strike fear into the hearts of people, prepared to calculate the slope of every ridge and line and tell my friends they will never find love.
My first victim was Falcon opinion editor Sarah Thomas. I first read Thomas’s heart line, the horizontal line closest to the fingers. While I initially thought that the line indicated she was selfish when it came to love, after some retrospection and squinting, my eyes and I decided that it was too short to render that verdict. I came to my final conclusion: She has a tendency to fall in love easily. Thomas begrudgingly confirmed this assertion, disappointed that even her hand betrayed this weakness.
I then moved onto Thomas’s head line, which reveals her mode of communication, thirst for knowledge and intellectualism. Thomas had a curved and sloped line spanning the middle of her palm, which told me that she was a creative person. Though I admit that she peer-pressured me into agreeing that it was the right result, I still found it to be an accurate assessment.
The lifeline, which, contrary to popular belief, does not measure length of life based on length of the line, starts on the side of the pointer finger and tapers off near the wrist. I noted how Thomas’s life line was long and deep, vitality.
Though this was a general assessment, it basically encapsulated Thomas in a word — she is a very exuberant and lively person. No doubt, the reading may have been general (which might be attributed to my using WikiHow) but it seemed to work.
I then moved on to School Scope editor Will Norwood. When reading his love line, I observed that it began below the index finger and extended as a straight line. This was indicative of a person who was content with their love life. When asked to confirm or deny, he said “confirm,” though the proof of confirmation remains to be seen.
Next, I assessed his head line, which was separated from his life line but was not as curvy. This pattern suggested that Will was adventurous and enthusiastic for life. In trying to gaslight him into thinking my reading was correct, I brought up the fact that he was an avid rower, which is intrinsically an unconventional and adventurous sport. Palm reading is a game of connecting the dots, and I was almost too good at it.
Will’s lifeline interestingly was not a continuing line, indicating a sudden change in lifestyle. The lifeline did make a prediction in the future, so I cannot confirm if the results were correct — Will himself was surprised at this result. Maybe I’ll check back in a few years to see if the hand really knows all.
Surprisingly, the readings were relatively accurate in the way that everyone possesses certain characteristics to some degree. Although I did learn a new skill and gain some joy in making hand puns (admittedly, they got out of hand), I do not think that I will make palm reading a habit — delivering offputting news while giving my friends a high-five seems a bit excessive.
