In the woods, looking for a place to sleep that will be warm and dry, I happen upon a group of gypsies. They have food and a warm dry place for me. We eat and then the music starts.
Someone has a balalika, someone else an accordian and another a violin. There are percussion instruments and I am handed a tambourine. We play, sing and dance for hours, until the full moon comes up.
The old gypsy gets up and goes into her wagon, beckoning me to follow, which I do. She reads my tea leaves. My fortune is not all good, not all bad and she says I will find that which I am looking for. At that she gives me a blanket and a pillow, telling me to sleep.
In the morning I wake up and the gypsies are gone. I am on the cold hard ground, covered with the blanket the old gypsy gave me. I am sad because I wanted to travel with them.
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