“I feel his breath upon my hands”
Sitting at a table in the Sterling, I am asked by a student if I will tie his necktie. A glance reveals the absence of hands. Thalidomide? He has a faint German accent and my mother’s eye’s—soft, moist, and brown. I stand behind him, uncertain and shaky. There is nothing of the surgeon’s self-assurance in my hands. The act is one of great intimacy. I feel his breath upon my hands, my wrist rests upon his neck. The boy’s utter submission. At last it is done. I move the knot under his chin and button the shirt beneath it.
“I have an interview today,” he tells me.
“Then you need to look your best. Good luck.”
RICHARD SELZER, from Diary, YaleUP.
Source: It’s a kirby