Your hands will fall off – you will only start to notice this as a feeling. Your hands will appear to be falling off because why can’t you turn the door knob or slide your hair back in a green hairclip above your right eyebrow or flip the scrambled eggs around the pan?
Then at 2 am in your studio listening to Kawabata’s novel, why can’t you work the paint brush with the correct pressure to layer another egg wash blue sheen over the solid lacquered blue seas you’ve been building up over several nights? Because your ability to use your hands, especially to use them to paint your pictures every night while most other people sleep and the streets fill with air left out of dreams, has been cursed.
Black lines will thread from the quick of your nails to your elbows. You cannot paint any more and you will wither.
Jane Connors is a part-time writer has written short stories, poetry and a screenplay. She is currently writing a novel.