Two people's hands have come in together over the rim of the flowerpot. A handful of black, damp soil rests on each palm, and white crumbs scattered here and there among the coarse grains catch the light. A red thread is wound around a wrist, and dried soil clings to the fingertips and the backs of the hands. The faint shadows suggest it is around the time the sun has begun to sink.
Look at a scene like this long enough and the fingers curl a little on their own. It is the shape of trying to hold something up. The shoulders drop, and while the eyes stay focused on the mound of soil in the middle of the frame, the breath goes down below the belly.
Only then does it come to mind that the whole day was spent touching nothing but smooth things. Glass and plastic and metal, surfaces without temperature. The hands kept working, and evening arrived without their having felt anything.
Just about every home has a flowerpot or two. Put a finger into the topsoil and leave it there for about three minutes. What if you simply covered it up to the back of the hand, without trying to work out whether it is damp or dry, cold or lukewarm.
The same three minutes can also be set down in front of the sink at the evening washing-up. While rinsing a plate, stop the stream of water for a moment, rest the wet hand on the dish and check how the back of the neck is doing. Whether it is pulled stiff, or whether it loosens a little once the hand is set down. Soil and water feel different, but they are alike in that while the hand is open you come to watch what the back of the neck is doing.
Soil cannot be gripped, and so the hand stays open for a long time.
