AustLit

Brenda Madigan avoided the sight of her body these days. She had arthritis; her fingers, once long, slender and tapered, olive skinned, were now twisted and sallow, covered with knobs. They curved under like claws, but lacked the strength that word implies. Her feet were swollen and so were her hip joints: when she levered herself onto her feet from a chair she could hear the thigh bones grinding woodenly against each other. Walking, her buttocks protruded unnaturally and her knees swivelled awkwardly in to meet each other. The illness had sapped her confidence too. She avoided strangers and asked no-one to the house.

(Source: Informit)