Fortune Teller

He was sitting on the creaking bamboo chair, with the yellow linen cloth with the word "fortune telling" spread in front of him, spinning the string of twenty-seven beads in his hand. He didn't answer right away. Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the leaves of the locust tree, painting a mottled light and shadow on his face. He squinted his eyes, as if thinking about something far away. After a long time, he said: "Do you know how many things are in a word?" I didn't speak. "A person's entire past, present and future are contained in one word. There are fears he cannot express, truths he dare not face, secrets he has hidden all his life. There is his life." He paused and slowly rubbed his fingers on the beads, "One word is enough. Saying too much will make noise."