They say that we wear our wedding bands on our left hand, on our second finger from the end because people used to believe that the largest vein from your heart ran straight to that finger. My lover tells me that your veins bulge from your skin when you are warm. This morning I felt something brush against my left hand and looked to see my hands undisturbed and warm, the heart-ring-vein bulging back at me. Something--someone?--gently nudged by left foot, but it, too, was undisturbed by any bags, brolly or shoes.
The same song was playing, the same record of an event of people playing music in a room, and I envisioned a tall man behind me, our molecules seamlessly combining without matter or consequence. A tall man above, younger than my dad, but reminiscent of the wizard--'subtle and quick to anger'--that he often speaks of. I smiled as I thought to myself, how lucky to have someone like watching over me.
On the journey home, the playlist found again to name the song: 'Baby Hold On' and a gentle firm kiss to my right forehead. A message to pass on.
