I have the hardest time understanding why

I have the hardest time understanding why my one hand is an exact mirror image of my other hand. How did my right hand know what my left hand was doing?

My hamsa hand was freaking me out. It insisted that Lefty gave it the stink eye and was always trying to cover it with oven mitts. Righty took the form of a fist, a paranoid fist.

I had no control. Well, the I that I still knew had no control. The I that I had come to share these hands with was in charge and I could not get her to listen. She was always

nagging me (the me she thought she knew), but the I that I knew lacked control decided to take back my power. I watched myself clench my fists (the fists I knew I had) & punched my

myself. To my surprise, I was suddenly able to speak and narrate fluently in English.

In fact, I went all Shakespearean on my abductors, but the one who seemed to be their leader only replied with variations on "Caw", "Meow" and

"Oink." I was disturbed by his lack of refined manners and elegant language. "Thou art a detestable lowbrow, worthy of great ignominy." I expectorated at him in a graceful manner.

My breeding and education were excellent, of course I was a Llama in a heralded lineage of the Dalai Llamas and this festering, squalid little porcine creature before me was

the Duke of Pork. I spat, forcefully, grinning like a madman, as my thick eyelashes beat quickly. His lineage was merely through blood, while my own was cosmic. Spiritual. Magic.

With such energy and power in my veins, I knew I would outlive even his grandchildren by centuries - so if this didn't work out, I could just marry his great-grandson instead.