The hands wrapped around her cup of tea had held stories of the earth. The wrinkled creases decorated with markings from the sun, leftover paint from yesterday’s project etched into the corners of her nail beds, and soil still alive under her bitten fingernails.

A slight tint of yellow painted her fingers from the turmeric she was using for her weekly batch of Jamu, a medicinal drink she learned to make during her time in Bali.

A white line appeared to be painted onto her left ring finger where a wedding band once lived, now a tan line. The contrast between skin kissed by the sun and that which has been protected. By the symbol of love.