Day 957

Excerpts about hands

He died with an acorn in his hand. They knew this after the sapling had grown through his palm, eventually getting caught and slowly dragging him up to the surface. Due to the remoteness of his deathbed none of this was found out until the tree was over ten feet in height and his remains were left dangling, bones caught up in fabric that knocked together like wind chimes.

-- -- --

They held hands through the fog, desperately trying to stay together while the cries of the lost echoed around them. The fools who let go found themselves fumbling around in circles, only seeing faint glimpses of people who vanished before they could get too close. Even those who kept together were in the same predicament but with another pair of eyes to watch for the large hands that grabbed the shadowy outlines of strangers and dragged them down.

-- -- --

There's a hand growing inside me and it isn't my unborn child's. It's nowhere near my womb, it's currently curled up around my left bicep, holding onto me so gently I can easily forget it's there until I raise my arm and it clutches at me for dear life. I keep wondering if I should tell anyone or if there's even anything there because it's just so small and it might be my unborn twin or something but it keeps moving around me and I'm worried that one day it'll try holding my heart and kill us both.