His Hands: Sudden Fiction

Here is a short piece I wrote that was just published in the Tufts Magazine. I’m quite proud of it and wanted to share.

The long olive-brown fingers were long and feminine in form but were distinctly masculine in character, stature, and presence. The skin glistened with a matte dewiness, giving the fingers the freedom needed to maneuver strategically over the German keyboard. The fingers stroked each key, neglecting the umlauts and focusing only on the English letters. The fingers stood taut, rigid with attention. Energy coursed through each cell, waiting to be harnessed. These fingers had great experience with the keys. All ten fingers worked in harmony in the dark. For at least some minutes, all you could hear was the pitter patter of these ten fingers swiftly, surely, and determinedly dancing atop the keys. But, soon, the fingers almost began to quiver from such strenuous activity and soon stopped. The fingers hung limp. But although they were limp, the fingers rested peacefully, knowing they had satiated their desire.


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