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I like my nails. They’re like little jewels that adorn my fingers, oval shaped and smooth. It’s a little detail that often gets overlooked, but that adds to the essence of a graceful hand. They serve a utilitarian purpose too—I remember in middle school how my friends would ask me to help them peel an orange, or pry open a rigid tab on a can of soda “because I had strong nails.” I’m proud of them, as minute as they may seem.