I’m hiding a hand in my mouth. A necessary precaution. The fingers catch the words my foolish tongue lets slip in haste. This thought here, an unpopular opinion there. I’ve avoided many an unpleasantry thanks to it. But no precaution is perfect. Sometimes the words come too quickly for my hand to grasp, and it must chase after them. The knuckles slip past my lips, and for a moment, someone else can see the fingers. If I’m lucky, the moment passes too quickly and is soon forgotten. But really, they have no grounds to judge. We’re all hiding hands.