I See a Three-Legged Frog…
Wanugee hovers over the mahjong tiles, eyes closed, chanting a mantra. He moves his hands like magic moons—waning and waxing over the little white squares—to summon his soothsaying power.
My request is unusual. Instead of his customary targets—love, health, wealth—I ask him to tell a fortune for all of us, a world upended by the coronavirus, still, at this point, in its early stages.
“That’s pretty macro, not really my sweet spot,” Wanugee cautions. But he’s game. “I’ll try anything, you know. How about we look towards the next six to eight months?”
Perfect. With his purple and gold
