1. You
It formed months before you were born, and it has not changed since.
Somewhere between your thirteenth and nineteenth week, the ridges on your fingertips settled into a pattern. Nobody chose it. It was shaped by the space you grew in: the way you moved, the shape of your fingertip pads, how fast your fingers grew. By the time anyone saw your face, it was finished.
And ever since, you have been leaving it everywhere.
- On the fogged-up back window, on the long drive home.
- In the icing of a birthday cake, one finger, before anyone was looking.
- On the glass of the front door, where a small hand waited for someone to come home.
- In a clay handprint that someone you love still keeps in a drawer.
Even identical twins, who share almost everything, do not share this.
A print can look like everyone else's and still belong to only one person.











