“
A hand was resting on the table in front of me in a sleepy fist. Suddenly it flipped on its back and opened its fingers as if asking to have its palm read.
But as I looked into its lines it suddenly flew up and slapped me in my face.
I began to cry…

... Then this same hand, I forget which, began to wipe my tears away…
”

—
Russell Edson - “This Encounter”