Her hand raised and touched her face. Her fingertips contacted her cheek and paused there - her flesh gave to the slight pressure. It was not a gesture that supported an expression and it had no decipherable intent. Although it looked like a touch to affirm her own presence – her own solidity - her eyes showed no manner of recognition or relief – no affirmation, no contradiction.
The movement was prompted by the spark of a single synapse – the first that would have, years earlier, set off the series necessary to generate the movement that bore meaning – a slight rub in response to a near imperceptible irritant on her cheek just below her right eye. She would have, years earlier, moved gracefully to the next function afforded her by mobility – a push of her glasses up the bridge of her nose, a brush of a hair from her forehead or a settling to her lap and a touch that recognized the insignificant texture of her polyester pants. Instead her hand moved down and away from her face and stopped for a long moment just inside her peripheral vision, and then it vanished. image source
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