Hangnail

A hangnail is inconspicuous. A tiny, split-off sliver of skin at the edge of the nail. Not worth a doctor's visit, not worth a conversation, not worth a place in anyone's diary. You pull at it, you bite at it, maybe you tear it off — and then it burns. For a few hours you feel that small spot with every movement of your hand. Then you forget it again. And a few weeks later, the same tear appears on the next finger.

Medically, the explanation is simple: dry skin, not enough care, solvents, cold, nutrient deficiency. All of that is true and not wrong. But it doesn't answer the real question: Why does something split off at exactly the place where you make contact with the world? Why at the edge of the hand, at the edge of the nail, at the edge of how you present yourself?