Conditional Reality

I was born with smaller than normal hands. This caused me no end of grief as I grew up, enduring the taunts of my classmates. I floundered in school, edging towards a life of crime. Then I discovered shorthand, which seemed like the voice of divinity itself laid bare for my adoration. I studied the system until I became expert. I earned my living by writing down what really important people said during extra important meetings. Sometimes, as I worked, I purposely left out crucial phrases. On those occasions I tightened my little hands into fists until they turned white.

Labels: Laborer's tales