Dancing Hands
Mar 8th, 2021 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
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She talked with her hands. It was comical.
The more animated she became, the more her hands flapped and fluttered through the air.
We teased her, had her sit on her hands, which practically made her mute.
She’d laugh then and poke our ribs, call us stinkers, and her hands danced as she did.
I didn’t make it back in time. I would have if I didn’t stop.
The bill wasn’t even due.
I was stalling, but stalling what?
My return to her bedside? Her last breath, or both?
When I got there, her hands were at her sides, spent.
From Guest Contributor Linda Chandanais
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