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Rant

Ridges Prevail

I have resigned myself to my fate, and my fate is to have unreadable fingerprints. I’ve been moisturizing like crazy, but no sooner have I applied lotion than my skin returns to its normal condition: bone dry. Rango under the sun dry. I had never stared so much at my fingers before. Deep ridges traverse my fingertips like violent scars, like the surface of Europa.

There’s not much more I can do to force my hands to produce acceptable marks. And now my computer keyboard is all shiny. Ugh.

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