The Devil's Hands

For the first time in years and years, Mr. Henderson began to weep. It started in his sitting room, completely out of the blue. While watching his brand new 52" television and enjoying a fully organic breakfast, something dark overcame him and his eyes welled up with tears. He then headed up his picturesque spiral staircase (also new) to his large, walk in shower. But the hot water couldn't wash away this seething layer of sin. He simply broke down. He curled into a ball and cried and cried, the thought of what he had become made him physically sick and emotionally distraught. He was crushed, and so he wept for hours, he wept like nobody ever had before. He eventually composed himself, for it was evening now and Mr. Henderson had an important business meeting to go to. This man would simply have to remain at home while Mr. Henderson left, as if he should not be allowed in the outside world anyway! So steady himself he did, and get dressed he did. As he looked in the mirror the horrible feeling that had possessed him for hours slowly began to melt away.

It was such a beautiful day out, stings of clouds sparsely painted on the sky. Mr. Henderson walked down the road outside his house, he had decided not to drive, the exercise would do his ageing legs good. A mother and her daughter walked past, both dressed in their summer clothes. She had little fine legs.