Dud Sea Scrawls The Writing, clearly, is not on the wall!

Maya was a tall woman with square shoulders, large uneven teeth and thin hair that had been blow-dried into a wispy cloud around her face. She had a hearty laugh that one could hear right across the room, and for all her eight and twenty years, she seemed to be much older. Our conversation was lively, for she seemed to know all the right things to say and her jokes were timed to perfection. It was only when she asked me in a jocular fashion to scratch her nose that we realized she was without an arm.

The story awaits here.