Postcard #81: Hands
As a gift at the company holiday party Mr. McGrath hired a photographer to take portraits. I was reluctant. I was unhappy. But he insisted – and I had never gotten my portrait done before. It was two days before Christmas when the photographers were finished and delivered to the factory. Connie, Mr. McGrath’s secretary arranged them in the lunchroom on a long table. So everyone can see everyone’s portraits during their lunch break. I nervously took my lunch early. I was just as unhappy seeing the photo as I was when it was taken. While I remember wearing a warm dark red coat that night it looked like I was wearing all black. Coupled with my expression I looked like I was mourning. The photographer had me rest my head on one of our wood chairs to ease the tremors in my hands. My fingers appeared swollen and arthritic from years of sewing embroidery into Mr. McGrath’s chairs – just like the one in the picture. I looked sad. I was sad. I stole the picture. Connie caught me. She gave me an understanding smile as I tucked it in my coat. I wish she stopped me instead of confirming my suspicions.
Transcribed by jjwood687 on Fiverr.