and the candles swerving away, not touching your dress but almost touching. We stood up at the end and you walked off the table into his arms.” 

 

“I would remove those bandages on your hands. I am a nurse, you know.” 

 

“They’re comfortable. Like gloves.” “How did this happen.” 

 

“I was caught jumping from a woman’s window. That woman I told you about, who took the photograph. Not her fault.” 

 

She grips his arm, kneading the muscle. “Let me do it.” She pulls the bandaged hands out of his coat pockets. As she loosens the bandages he steps backwards, the white coming out of his arms as if he were a magician, till he is free of them. She walks towards the uncle from childhood, sees his eyes hoping to catch hers to postpone this, so she looks at nothing but his eyes. 

 

His hands held together like a human bowl. She reaches for them while her face goes up to his cheek，