It’s all of the hand washing. No amount of lotion helps. After this has run it’s course, I’ll shed this brittle skin. Gently fold it. Place it in a wooden box. Something with a latch. Alongside toilet paper tubes. Hand dated in ballpoint pen. Half a dozen empty crosswalks. A cassette recording of a BBC reporter contemptuously explaining American health insurance deductibles. “They reset every year.” A recipe for Soy Curl Chiken Soup. And blades of grass for everyone that didn’t make it.