Long after we should be asleep, her hands are like arcade game claws, grasping for my hands, clutching the air with determined desire but a lack of precision.
We play like this for quite some time, and I lament the fact that it’s been two days since I last snipped her razor-like baby talons. I never knew baby nails grew so fast. Her grip is so strong these days, and she’s gotten less robotic in her movements, despite the fact that her arms reach out for me, all angles and starts-and-stops, still. Yet somewhere in the last few days she’s begun to sway her arms, rather than drop them; to wait to grab the prize with her long fingers, fixing her eyes for a moment, before making the dive.
Sometime, so quietly, so without circumstance – she changed again.