Try not to associate bodily defect with mental, my good friend, except for a solid reason. (Charles Dickens, David Copperfield)
No Clapping Zone Dupuytren’s Contracture in my left hand joins with an arthritic thumb to create its own clumsy five-digit island. On my right hand, a long-ago partially healed, broken middle finger refuses to bend. It is set for vulgar messages. None of the ten appendages chooses to juggle anything more challenging than a dose of Tylenol. Both left and right agree. Clapping is impossible because the digits act like drunk spiders. And yet, in more important matters. in everyday places, all ten digits work together. They decide to cook a meal. Ignore the spills. Or type this poem, or send a message to someone who needs support. Let the larger audience clap, carry the greater approval for performances. These hands will offer gifts. They just need more time.
terrypetersen 