I made her fingers from boxwood and rosewood. I carved them from tree branches I harvested from her forest, the trees that surrounded her house. Each branch was curved as if she was beckoning me to come to her. the digists were seperated by small dowels, hinges which could move, and tiny wires made them firm. When she played the piano the wooden tips clicked across the ivory keys and made a rythmic percussion, tick tack. The notes sounded out into the darkness and like little wooden feet walking on cobblestones could be heard. Her hands were nearly cut off as punishment for rotecting me during the war. But because she lied so well and held her silence, told perfect tales, the fingers only were removed. I had thought of mechanical fingers, like clock parts, from tin and iron, but I have no eperience with these. I consulted the clockmaker for the designs and had heim draw them out in ink. then I went into the forest and found the branches that suited her. the birds were wild that evening, fighting in the drizzling rain over nothingness. the nests were wet and sopping with rain, the blue eggs glazed with cold moisture above. I sawed off these apendages and my heart ached for her touch, and to hear the music come pouring forth from her again. Late nights i worked at carving and made mistakes, misshapen fingers which in their error and curvature told wrong stories or pointed towards other men in her past or future. It was when i finally found her proper fingers in my mind that I captures her heart. The inked drawings from the clockmaker were only a crude plan, for her knew nothing of her heart. One morning, in the dawn light, I attatched the tin perfect fingers one by one onto the tiny stumps, and they fit perfectly, anf if I were giving myself inside her. She wiggled her new fingers and brushed them for the first time in ages across my face, moving down along my chest. the bird were wild again on this morning, thrilled by the hatching of their eggs. They were out seeking worms for their babies. She put a single wooden finger in my mouth, and closed her eyes, feeling my tounge explore the tip for the first time.