A skeleton says hello

I was on my way outside at lunch today when a skeleton waved to me as I got off the elevator.

She looked familiar, but I don't like to stare at people till my eyes focus, not even skeletons. So I looked away and wheeled closer.

It was a gal I had not seen in ages. I moved off her floor and she was off having kids. She was always slender, but she was beyond slender now. She said she had been pregnant, then sick, then something else.

I told her she looked thin, and she agreed thankfully. She is too cute for heroin chic.

I told her to gain weight and went to pat her arm for some reason. But I couldn't do it. My hand stopped short. I wasn't afraid to touch her, even though I imagine even in her weakened state she could take me.

I just misjudged where her arm was, like I do the doctor's finger when he has me touch my nose then his finger, which he moves to a new spot each time. I know it serves some important purpose, but part of me thinks this one and most neurology tests are just to make me look silly.

I guess it bothered me because I know how good it feels to be touched (which sounds dirty but isn't). I know that with her children around, I am sure she is not going to the barber shop for a human touch (just once, in North Carolina). But still.