Chosen Response for the Hands Prompt!

Maggie Burnham, Editor of The Lance

Hands that Feed

Blen Mulugeta

Stuck in a dark, and cold cell,
The only human interaction I have are the hands that feed me.
Through the small slot in the wall, a foot wide
And a half a foot tall
Five inches from the ground
Each day have a pair of hands, one for every day of the week,
My only way of keeping track of time gone by
Monday’s hands are small, dark, and callous
Long fingers with short and grimy nails
Tuesday’s hands have seen war,
With one finger gone and the others scarred beyond repair
Wednesday’s hands have short and thick fingers
With a finger missing a nail
Thursday’s hands have daggers for nails,
With alabaster skin that sometimes shows up bruised
Friday’s hands have fingers all the same length,
And nails that differ in shape and thickness
Saturday’s hands are ashy and hard-looking,

Extremely small compared to the rest
And Sunday’s hands are long and skinny,
Thus a new week begins.