DO YOU HAVE MORE
THAN TWO HANDS?
More than anything else. The diary-keeper left the page
open, and two pens too, on the table. I made stuff up.
I wrote in it for two pages - looking pretty much like
the same hand. Isn't it funny how, in a few year's time,
whoever's reading it will think it all really happened?
Like us, living a life we never realize while we live it.
More than anything else - and then in a few year's
time we think it all really happened. And already.
Those tiny kids will have grown. Old grandma
will be gone. After a while, everything becomes
nothing more than a story anyway. How many
hands do you have? More than two?
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