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HAND OR NO HAND? by Eshé





*Taps microphone*
Hi! I’m Right Hand. I’m always right, but my twin, Left Hand, doesn’t think so. 
There’s an idiom that goes “Never let your right hand know what your left hand is doing,” and that is the most accurate description of our relationship.
We’ve been separated our whole lives, hence our strong independence, but when we have to work together our differences harmonize on our life-long piano. 
Lately, we’ve been hot and bothered under latex and we’ve been feeling like penises with nothing to penetrate. WHAT HAPPENED TO RAW DOGGIN’ IT, MAN? 
*Left Hand exclaims in agreement* RIGHT?!
*Right Hand exclaims thinking Left Hand is calling for attention* WHAT? I’M TELLING A STORY!
Left Hand can be so intrusive sometimes…
But apparently there’s a “virus” going on titled COVID-19 and/or Corona that has flicked the off switch on world operations that has us wearing this sweaty, thin, extra layer of skin. 
We’ve been seeing a lot of signs that read:

NO MASK 
NO GLOVES
NO SERVICE

that used to read: 

NO SHIRT 
NO SHOES
NO SERVICE
My how the fashion has turned! Humans can now be HALF NAKED and WE CANNOT. 
Also, as Sagittarians we can get a bit dramatic hence all these capitalized words.
*Left Hand yells again in agreement* RIGHT?!
*Right hand, again misunderstanding Left Hand’s response, breaks the fourth wall, rolls fingers and sighs* one minute please.
But we’d rather be safe than sorry because I both know we don’t want any raw dog accidents, catch my drift? 
The gloves only come off indoors, where we mostly live now since everyone is in quarantine. By the way, we thought quarantine was only for sick people...hmph. Anyway, bike rides have been fun, though!  We actually like the latex against the handlebars because it reduces calluses. Gotta keep these hands CUTE, gurl. 
To keep ourselves active, we’ve taken up boxing - bare-knuckle boxing to be exact - since there is no other flesh to touch. We also have been creating score art and have been getting looooottss of marker ink on us. Creating music with our Akai MPK mini and playing the piano more often has let frequencies heal us during this confusing yet transformative life. We, well mostly me, have been taking photo shoots with ALL kinds of fabric and props, living la vida loca! Now that I’m thinking about it, we haven’t played the flute in a while and maybe we should start doing that more often. A few flute whistles wouldn’t hurt anyone. Right?!
*Left Hand yells* WRONG!
Welp, I set myself up for that one. 
I wish I could touch someone else besides my twin honestly. Bare-knuckle fighting with Left Hand is great, but doing too much of something dilutes its value, ya know?
*Left Hand, in agreement* RIGHT?! 
*Right hand, frustrated, exhales slowly* YEEEEESSSSSSSS??? 
*Left Hand hysterically laughs at how upset Right Hand gets* For us to be twins, you reaaaallly are the exact opposite of me. Whomeveris reading this, let me tell you the story from my side. *Left Hand grabs the microphone*

Hi! I’m Left Hand and my twin, Right Hand, isn’t always right and let me tell you why. 
First, I do agree with Right Hand, just not all the time.
Second, since I am not the RIGHTING (WRITING) hand, I get to observe more of my surroundings making my view more expansive. 
Third, Right Hand never lets me know what’s going on, so THAT’S WHY WHEN I EAVESDROP RIGHT HAND GETS UPSET. RIGHT?!

*Right Hand points finger* WRONG 

See…
There’s another idiom that says “There’s three sides to every story - their side, my side, and the truth,” so by telling my side of the story, in theory, the truth will be revealed. 

OUR AUNT DIED AND WE COULDN’T ATTEND THE FUNERAL.
OUR GRANDDADDY DIED AND COULDN’T ATTEND THE FUNERAL.
OUR FRIEND’S DAD IS DYING AND HOPEFULLY THERE WILL BE MORE THAN EIGHT PEOPLE IN ATTENDANCE AT HIS FUNERAL. 

WE ARE TWO OF MILLIONS WHO ARE UNEMPLOYED 
AND WE CAN NO LONGER SERVE J. LO HER DECAF CAPPUCCINO. 
MA CALLS TO BE SURE WE’RE SET FOR THE FUTURE AND WE HAVE NO PLAN.
WE’RE GRADUATING WITH NO ONE TO HOLD US IN CELEBRATION. 

This is why I handle the bass clef on life’s piano, because in order to appreciate the highs in life we have to understand the lows. 
This little latex fever my twin talks about *in my best Right Hand voice* “OH, I’M HOT. OH SWEATY. OH, THIS IS AN EXTRA LAYER OF SKIN” is a bit self-centered, yeah? 
These latex gloves are a metaphor for life’s sunrises and sunsets. Can’t get pregnant with a glove on, but you can with the glove off. Pallbearers will carry our bodies with white gloves on and won’t with the gloves off. 
One cannot give life with gloves on and one can’t bury life with gloves off. 
There’s a virus that is killing us and for protection we wear these hot-sweaty-extra-layer-of-skin gloves because there have been raw dog accidents, RIGHT?!
*Right Hand pauses and sighs* riiigghhhttt.
I remember when Right Hand was eating a bag of chips on the train and touched the NYC subway floor in order to find an UNIMPORTANT item I dropped and continued to EAT THE CHIPS! WTF?! A half hour later we’re cleaning up PUKE because sssooommmeeeoonnneee was a bit under the weather. Right Hand is always right? Suuureee. I swear we should’ve been Gemini’s. 

We are present only in or at certain times, so, Right Hand, don’t forget the places we were and are not permitted anymore. These blue gloves are a symbol of life, and no matter what hand is used, Left Hand, Right hand, helping hand, or dealing hand to open the bodega door, carry groceries home or to turn a steering wheel, let’s not make these blue gloves, white. I enjoy not burying bodies. 

I haven’t shaken your hand in a minute, Right Hand. No more bear-knuckle fights. Well, at least let’s fight with blue gloves on. 

*Right Hand and Left Hand shake each other on this deal and proceed to put on gloves for battle* 





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