Andrew J. Lederer

I was more than normally self-conscious yesterday in the presence of the person who'd (yes, I asked) listed my flaws on Saturday. Every move I made was fraught with peril lest it be used to define me downward or play into an already established failing.

Of course, my extra-uptight behavior was both noticed and catalogued but not acknowledged as outside my (already low) norms.

And I'd been so proud of myself in recent days as, in the wake of gentle earlier entreaties to improve my posture, I'd begun walking with hands outside my pockets, despite the fact that my insecurity feels greatly assuaged by the hunch-inducing placement.

Last night, though, as I left my accuser, my hands desperately sought solace within my pockets and I just felt incapable of removing them.

Then, as I headed for the bus, I forced myself to remove them, forming my hands into fists just to keep myself going

I thought that was enough but then, suddenly, somehow, I allowed my fingers to unclasp.

And strode, tall and strong, toward the 94.