hand

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day1525.jpg

I'm headed out of town in a few days for a couple of nearly back-to-back trips. I ought to be packing or organizing things... instead, I am sitting on the sofa, staring dreamily at my right hand. The house is quiet. I've already turned down the heat, and I can imagine my soft and warm bed. And I keep looking at my hand... and then moving paint around on the paper.

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