Pain and Eternity Are in the Lifelines of My Hands
What’s it all about–reality.
Mama was right. I shoulda never cracked my knuckles when I was little.
Pain throbs, pulsating from nerve to nerve moving slowly from my second joint to the pointing tip. Sparks ignite to light little fires around the juncture of my right phalanges. I like that term–phalanges–Greek for fingers. But somehow…