LETTER 32
A Free Hand
A fictional letter from Management.
Written
Management carried two mugs of tea through the garden gate.
The man sweeping the path stopped and held out a hand.
We hooked both handles over the fingers of our left hand and offered him our right.
He looked at it, leaned the broom against the gate and shook our hand.
“Good to see you,” we said.
He held out his hand again.
“Is one of those for me?”
“Of course.”
We pulled at one handle. Our left fingers stayed curled through both.
He put both hands out.
We let him take the mugs. He set one on the wall and drank from the other.
We picked ours up.
Then we put our right hand round it too.
Management