Dirty hands
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"These hands are dirty". the man said. I looked at him and he smiled.
He looked tired. Maybe he was working too much. No, that's not it. He's a strong person. Besides, he's always looked tired. I glanced at him, returning from my gaze upon the ground.
He was building something again. My feet tapped on the light-brown, wood floor, on over to the opposite side of him. I sat down and the floor creaked. He turned up to me and smiled, the light was reflecting off of his glasses.
Curiously, I tilted my head to see what he was making. It was a doll. A beautiful doll with only the finest materials. Wavy dirty-blond hair and bright eyes, she was astonishing. My lips curled into a smile and he laughed. I didn't know that he noticed me and felt a bit embarrassed.
I looked at his hands, moving ever so skillfully and diligently. His hands... I looked into his eyes even though they were focused on something else. Hesitantly I said, "Your hands aren't dirty". He stopped with his eyes still on the doll. He tilted his head and soon his eyes met mine. He said, "No, they are. They are indeed". His hands really weren't dirty and I was confused.
I looked at my palms and kept staring. He noticed my moment of being lost in thought and chuckled. "No sweety, your hands aren't dirty". He lifted up his hands and said, "These hands aren't clean but produce such beautiful things, it's amazing isn't it?" He continued chuckling and I smiled. I didn't get what he meant but maybe some days or years from now, I will understand what he meant.
He closed up the shop, there were echoing jingles. I carried the beautiful doll in my right arm. With my free hand, I grabbed his right hand and giggled. "Now my hand is dirty too!"
Description:
It's from the granddaughter's perspective.
The man is the young girl's grandfather. He owns a toy shop and is a toymaker. His granddaughter came over to play but ended up watching him make a doll. He speaks of his hands being dirty, meaning that they've been worked so much, but they are still able to make wonderful things. He takes pleasure in his granddaughter's curiosity but still leaves her wondering. At the end, he closes up the shop and as they are leaving, his granddaughter grabs his hand. She didn't exactly know what he meant by "dirty hands", so she takes it as his hands are literally dirty but she can't see it. Then she says that her hand is "dirty too" because she was holding her grandfather's hand. By holding hands she supposedly gained "dirtiness" from her grandfather.
He looked tired. Maybe he was working too much. No, that's not it. He's a strong person. Besides, he's always looked tired. I glanced at him, returning from my gaze upon the ground.
He was building something again. My feet tapped on the light-brown, wood floor, on over to the opposite side of him. I sat down and the floor creaked. He turned up to me and smiled, the light was reflecting off of his glasses.
Curiously, I tilted my head to see what he was making. It was a doll. A beautiful doll with only the finest materials. Wavy dirty-blond hair and bright eyes, she was astonishing. My lips curled into a smile and he laughed. I didn't know that he noticed me and felt a bit embarrassed.
I looked at his hands, moving ever so skillfully and diligently. His hands... I looked into his eyes even though they were focused on something else. Hesitantly I said, "Your hands aren't dirty". He stopped with his eyes still on the doll. He tilted his head and soon his eyes met mine. He said, "No, they are. They are indeed". His hands really weren't dirty and I was confused.
I looked at my palms and kept staring. He noticed my moment of being lost in thought and chuckled. "No sweety, your hands aren't dirty". He lifted up his hands and said, "These hands aren't clean but produce such beautiful things, it's amazing isn't it?" He continued chuckling and I smiled. I didn't get what he meant but maybe some days or years from now, I will understand what he meant.
He closed up the shop, there were echoing jingles. I carried the beautiful doll in my right arm. With my free hand, I grabbed his right hand and giggled. "Now my hand is dirty too!"
Description:
It's from the granddaughter's perspective.
The man is the young girl's grandfather. He owns a toy shop and is a toymaker. His granddaughter came over to play but ended up watching him make a doll. He speaks of his hands being dirty, meaning that they've been worked so much, but they are still able to make wonderful things. He takes pleasure in his granddaughter's curiosity but still leaves her wondering. At the end, he closes up the shop and as they are leaving, his granddaughter grabs his hand. She didn't exactly know what he meant by "dirty hands", so she takes it as his hands are literally dirty but she can't see it. Then she says that her hand is "dirty too" because she was holding her grandfather's hand. By holding hands she supposedly gained "dirtiness" from her grandfather.
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That's such an interesting concept! Honestly, my perverted mind thought that he was stained with the guilt he did to some other little girl and he's manifesting it in making a doll that looks like her. I thought irony was produced by his daughter holding his hand and calling her own hands dirty - and I also thought it was foreshadowing for a scene yet to come! o_o
I really liked this. Please excuse my perverted mind and write more.
I really liked this. Please excuse my perverted mind and write more.
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film_orange wrote...
That's such an interesting concept! Honestly, my perverted mind thought that he was stained with the guilt he did to some other little girl and he's manifesting it in making a doll that looks like her. I thought irony was produced by his daughter holding his hand and calling her own hands dirty - and I also thought it was foreshadowing for a scene yet to come! o_oI really liked this. Please excuse my perverted mind and write more.
I have to say that your post made me chuckle. Don't worry, I'll try to write more.
Spoiler:
And honestly, I thought there would be a chance of something perverted being pulled out from the concept. No worries.
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From what I've read, the man seem to bury some kind of unbearable guilt from the past. Don't know what is it : maybe he's a wanted criminal in the past?
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That was really good Zeph :)
At first I kinda got an odd creepy vibe from the whole "dirty hands" thing. But after the explainatation, I saw what you were going for with this. You should do some more writing, Im gonna start following it dilligently!
I also liked how you worded the story as well. There seemed to be subtle imagery throughout, which gave a great deal of imaginative value to the poem.
Brsvo, keep it up :)
87
At first I kinda got an odd creepy vibe from the whole "dirty hands" thing. But after the explainatation, I saw what you were going for with this. You should do some more writing, Im gonna start following it dilligently!
I also liked how you worded the story as well. There seemed to be subtle imagery throughout, which gave a great deal of imaginative value to the poem.
Brsvo, keep it up :)
87
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@Everyone
Thanks for the compliments. I'll be sure to try to write more.
@high_time
Actually, even I don't know what he did to have some type of guilt from the past. Makes you wonder.
Thanks for the compliments. I'll be sure to try to write more.
Spoiler:
@high_time
Actually, even I don't know what he did to have some type of guilt from the past. Makes you wonder.
Spoiler:
