Personal Narrative: The Henna Tattoo Artist

“Don’t move. I promise it’ll be over soon just please do not move a single muscle”. I say this to myself under my breath while the henna tattoo artist decorates the final flower on the sole of my left hand. Halfway through, she stops, lays her tools down and walks towards the bathroom. After an hour of struggling to keep my hand elevated, it felt as though I was in a constant battle against gravity. Although ill-advised, I slightly let gravity triumph and allowed my hand to sink closer to the floor, never letting it come into direct contact with the ground. The pain inflicted on it was severe and agonizing. In my brief moment of relief, I could not help but admire the design that blessed my hand. The geometrical shapes of diamonds and triangles