The Spaces Between Your Fingers

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Anita was there with her mother, and they both laughed when she told the story. She illustrated it herself.
I had been losing my eyesight since the 7th grade, and with my last name starting with a "W" I was always being seated at the back of the classroom. It was almost imossible to see the board from back there, so I'd often have to ask the kids sitting closest to me, "what's the teacher writing?" or, "what's the homework?" Sometimes I would volunteer to write on the board, because then I wouldn't be forced into reading from it aloud, (as this was a common custom). 
Of course, by the time 11th grade rolled around, it was getting incredibly difficult for me to see. I felt that, lately, I had been asking too often to sit in the front of the class, so instead I came up with a plan to get out of it. I raised my hand and told my teacher, Ms. Mason, "I have to go find my sister, I need to give her something."
"Your sister?"
"Yes, my twin sister."
"Your twin?" 
I nodded and told her that she was in gym at the moment. "To tell us apart," I continued, "I wear pink glasses and she wears blue." She bought the story, handed over the hall pass, and I spent my now free class period wandering around the school in peace. I returned with class time almost over. I looked at Ms. Mason, shrugged, and simply said I couldn't find my sister.
After almost 28 years, a chance encounter reunited me with Ms. Mason in a supermarket. After greeting me cheerfully, the first question out of her mouth was, "How's your twin?"
I laughed.


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