Micro soft words

Let the weak say I am strong, let the poor say I am rich, let the blind say I can see. It’s what the Lord has done in me.

My words appear furiously on screen as I have read it on peoples’ lips. Fast and furious as only our hands and fingers can manage it. Hopefully my facial muscles can keep up.
And my sense of sight, smell, taste, touch, can they keep up too? I must say that they have done well by me so far.
Television and books tell me that the hands of the mute dance gracefully in the air. Their fingers are long and slender, pale as though vulnerable and expressing more adequately than verbal speech can ever do so. My fingers are fat and stumpy. Pale, and/but pasty’s more the word. One doesn’t need beautiful fingers to talk, really.

……. To be continued by abel. Louise Tay