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Glove Hands

The cold weather has made my hands extremely dry. So dry that the skin on some of my fingers is cracking. It's gross. Super gross.

So the other night, I was looking for gloves to wear overnight, so that I can lotion up my hands and lock in the moisture. I couldn't find any, so my husband grabbed his gloves from the car. They're a pair of warm, black gloves.

"Are you sure? I'm going to get them all lotiony," I said.

He insisted, so I put them on. Got under the covers. Kitty curled up on by my side.

I was getting settled in, bundled up and all. I softly pet my cat's head with my gloved hand.

I started to laugh.

My husband asked, "What's so funny?"

I said, "I feel like a villain."

I felt like the character "A" from Pretty Little Liars, who is always doing something creepy, like playing with a doll or caressing something with gloved hands, in the ending scene of every episode.

The image of a black-gloved hand softly petting a kitty is super ominous. Like, hmmm, is that cat in danger? What horrible things is the owner of the black-gloved hand plotting?

Is the cat in on it?

Pair the image with some dark, brooding orchestral music, and that's basically the opening of a thriller.

In the end, I couldn't bear the warmth, so I pulled the gloves off before I drifted off. I'm not cut out for villaining.

My hands are still dreadfully dry, if you're wondering. If I WAS a villain, I'd be gross hands girl. I wouldn't do anything evil, I'd just sit around and be gross.


thank you, love you, xoxo ✨

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