Restrictions We sit facing each other word-build our friendship while my hands that her blindness renders mute punctuate my words and my forty three facial muscles provide no short-cuts. I stumble on options, spell out and betray — her, myself, both of us? — shun body short-hand for a verbal detour or skip over translating silent tears disgusted frowns and happy nods. I mold pieces of me into our common lexicon funnel gestures and grins into speech and rely on my vocal cords to relay reactions and feelings. The thing is I watch myself with sharper eyes when I look for the words to share word-free expressions.
© Marie-Andrée Auclair