Later, I lay on my makeshift bed in the hidden corner of the workshop and flicked through Lumi's photo albums on a tablet. The stump of my left forearm was cabled to it, my hand removed for charging but not before I had downloaded the recorded data. I had the playback looped, feeding the recent sensations back; the warmth of her thigh under my hand, her cool fingertips on mine, the brush of her thumb along the crease of my palm. Goosebumps up and down my spine, every time. And on the tablet screen; Lumi. Lumi laughing with a group of her friends. Lumi raising a glass of champagne on a balcony, a city night-scape behind her. Lumi on a yacht, blue water and bright sun, her thin summer dress pressed against her body by the wind, her legs still intact and her hair flying. Lumi standing by a car on a darkened highway, her face overexposed in the camera flash, eyes reflecting blood red like a demon, a vampire, a succubus.
YOU ARE READING
Less Of Her
Short StoryClaudia is a shut-in, a nerd. She creates custom cybernetic limbs, unique works of art. Lumi is everything Claudia is not, exotic, exciting, outgoing. Claudia comes to realise they both have their secrets. Secrets that will tear them apart.
