I had a bone scan. The technician balanced a clip board on one arm. The arm was short with a small hand at the end and tiny fingers. As I lay on the table, I wanted to ask about the arm. I thought everyone did. I thought if I asked her what had happened, it might form a bond between us, and I thought about times I had asked someone a personal question and unintentionally created a moment of intimacy I did not know what to do with, like walking on a road and arriving at a cliff. I did not ask about the hand. Before leaving, I took it in mine without thinking. She lit up.