Big and small, young and old, mysterious hands live in silence despite their owners not being able to keep quiet. They communicate the underlying truth behind each act, despite the mouth contradicting them.
Mysterious hand, soft hands, caressing hands, banging hands, firm hands, trembling hands, all of them unwillingly tell a story that has never been pronounced. A true story is depicted in silence, on those hands with the passing of time.
They do not lie, they cannot, they do not have the capacity of the lips to say what they want.
They feel obliged by their mute nature to tell their story. Not the fictitious story that the brain spouts through the mouth but the authentic one. The one that marks the silent hands which, cannot but silently scream all these non-narrated stories.
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