23 April 2008

Waiting 02

The old man in the corner of the waiting room had enormous, calloused hands, as ugly as I’ve ever seen. He was comfortable with them though; he sat bolt upright, great posture and a noble look. Based on my current whereabouts, I would guess ex-Royal Navy. I couldn’t take my eyes away from his hands; they were something special, seemingly twice the size of mine. Back when valves and levers needed wrestling with, when machinery rusted solid and needed wrenching back into use, hands like this would have been king. I couldn’t quite imagine him using a mobile phone or sending an email. Timely appendages I guess, both his and mine.

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