Hands

I met a new hand therapists.
She gasps when she sees my hands.
She took pictures of me holding a pen and pinching one of the instruments.
When she snapped the pictures and the click of the camera sounded; I felt the bile rise in the back of my throat.
With each click I felt humiliation of having such deformed and crippled hands.
Even after all this time, three and half years of looking at them.
All those hours, minutes and days and still those pictures had a way of breaking my heart.
I will see her weekly for the next three months and let her try to straighten out what is crooked.
Maybe in her horror she can help.

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