So it was the hand that started it all . . . His hands had been infected, and soon it would be his arms . . . His hands were ravenous. — Ray Bradbury Copy Share Image
“Nothing works,” he started, his hands kneading my sides as he tried again. “I try. And try. But nothing works. I can’t focus. I can’t . . . I can’t.” — Amber L. Johnson Copy Share Image
