Prompted Shorties

Handwriting Anatomy

Prompt: Consider your handwriting, or a character's handwriting. What significance does it have, and what does it say about the type of person you/they are?

Story:

"I'm a leftie"

"Very True"

"But sometimes I feel like my right hand is neglected"

"But you use that to pleasure yourself, as you've said in our last session"

"I did. Didn't I?"

"Yes, yes you did. But tell me, what makes you think that your right hand is neglected."

"I... I don't do much for it."

"Go on..."

"I mean there's the pleasure thing, uhm, I use my fork on my right hand, and then I use it to navigate my mouse on my computer and a bunch of other stuff as well"

"But why do you think your right hand is neglected? Because it sounds like you use it as much as your left hand"

"But there are things that my right hand can't do, but my left can."

"Like writing?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"You still write on paper?"

"Well... No. I type my writings on a computer now."

"I see. Go on."

"And I drink with my left hand."

"Mmmhmmm. Uh, let's go back to your writings. You said you type your writings now, correct?"

"Yes."

"So, doesn't it disqualify as an exclusivity of only your left hand to operate on?"

"Yeah, I think it does."

"Alright, and that's enough for this session."

"Already? Well, okay doc"

"So, see you on Tuesday?"

"Wednesday doc, I don't live in America remember?"

"That is correct. Take care Andrew."

"Thanks doc."

I turned off the computer where the only memory of my wife stopped playing.

I wish I had recorded more of our moments together, those lifeless pictures don't compare to the moving ones on my computer. But neither of them compare to the original thing, which is sadly buried six feet under the ground five miles from here.

I took a final swig on the Jack Daniels sitting on the coaster emptying the wretched bottle that doesn't even bring the dead back to life.

I wish I could still feel her touch, her touch that sends my spines tingling with pure delight. I wish I could taste her lips once more, or maybe every night, so I'd stop crying every time I close my computer.

I wish I could hold her in my arms again like whenever I see her standing in front of the mirror, I wish I could sleep with her beside me so my nightmares won't come back.

I miss her dearly and I can't stand not being around her. It's only been a month and I can't take it anymore, the silence in our apartment is killing me. The blasted cat is scavenging the cabinets for food.

I don't really care. Not after when she left me... when she left me here to rot all alone.

She was selfish.

Couldn't she stayed alive for me? For us?

The heck with cancer. What a stupid excuse.

She really just wanted to leave me. She got sick of my sickness.

No...

No?

Yes!

That's right.

She hated me.

My guts.

My... Sickness.

I'm a leftie.

She was too.

They say opposites attract.

I think she made the right decision to leave me.

Good riddance.

I miss her so much.