à gauche

This group of disturbing statues in the garden of the Musee Rodin, gaze pensively to the left. Was Rodin left handed?
This group of disturbing statues in the garden of the Musee Rodin, gaze pensively to the right. Was Rodin left handed?

I oft think upon what might have been should life have dealt a better hand. “à droit”, “adroit”, “dexter”, “dexterous”; the very romance languages crying out against me, alone, left “sinister” and “gauche”. Manipulated by fate. Mishandled by fortune. Misaligned aforehand.

How strange that in this “digital” age, no-one else may see my gaucherie. At last I have the upper-hand, the dexterity I crave, and with each finger strike I compose, devoid of sinister connotations. Penning my works ambidextrously, yet not all fingers and thumbs, but rightly formed and rightly directed.

And so, despite being left in a world where even an ineptitude with scissors cuts one to the quick, I clutch to my bosom the non-judgmental keyboard that so kindly lets my fingers compose without taking sides, never pointing out my shame.

In response to Writing 201: fingers

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