Shake My Hand

Enemies shake hands. Bear hugging your enemy is not always the wiser of ideas, because you don’t know where he’s hiding his Swiss or his revolver. Handshaking keeps a distance at which enemies can eye their rival, and keep tabs on the other’s position.

And a handshake as a genuine greeting between brothers is unfortunate and awkward. They’re either enemies or they haven’t yet reached friendship status – saddening either way. Embracing is one of the most apparent signs of trust.

Still, handshakes are great and I love them. But what’s scary is that I’m uninformed of the whereabouts and whatabouts and howabouts of hands. Or whose blood might be on them. I have shaken far too many hands.

I should put more thought into a handshake. Or maybe I shouldn’t, just to stay sane.

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