Understanding Paul

“Describe Paul as you see him, using language as effectively as you can.”

Keller’s POV (page 5/6)

The boy’s hands were of the norm: fingers weak, vulnerable to a fault. Paul’s father insisted the boy played well. Ha, surely! I knew those hands. To think such hands were once my own; however, mine were later trained and polished of their faults. Paul was merely a newborn, waiting to be groomed, tweaked, and refined to perfection. Much – almost, overwhelming – potential rested in those young, innocent hands. Fingers of a pianist? Perhaps.

Paul himself appeared somewhat… nervous, anxious, I supposed. He had the right to feel so. What else was expected of a boy who had moved to a new city of unfamiliar faces? Nonetheless, that didn’t alter my expectations of Paul as a pianist. He was in my home for piano lessons and lessons he would receive.

His gaze was on my absent little finger. Amusing to think he must wonder how one can possibly play piano pieces when missing a finger. “Fifth fingers are unnecessary,” I pronounced.