Literature
All that hands can hold
Hands, she had come to define her world, to see her life by its hands. By how its fingertips pried into wounds, both open and long since closed. By the pressure, its palms placed against her ribcage every time she tried to breathe without worry. As she laid there using her own fingertips to soothe bruises which life had placed upon her, she came to realize her life was defined by the hands which she had known.
She had been born to professional hands. Diligent and cultured in their precision, soft and unblemished in their caress, however, no such affection was offered to her. With assiduity far too meticulous and practiced to b