The company that hosted my website phoned me the next morning. Their servers had been overwhelmed by traffic to my website. When I checked, my e-mail was similarly jammed with message after message about my work or the brass legs. After an hour I gave up trying to deal with it. As fast as I would reply or delete a message another dozen would arrive. When I got online I found the clip of Lumi and the brass legs had gone viral. By noon, the more obsessive bloggers had discovered my mobile number.
The knock at the door came just as I turned off my phone in frustration. I didn't know what to expect but I opened the door with a snarl on my face and a curse ready to throw in the face of whoever stood there. Of course, it was her, it was Lumi. The curse died in my throat, and I stood there, opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish.
"Claudia?"
Like an idiot, I started to cry, and felt worse for doing it in front of her. She led me by the hand back into the workshop, fussing over me and making soothing noises. She sat me down, handed me a tissue from her bag and waited for the tears and sniffing to stop.
"What is it, what's wrong?" She asked when I had it under control.
"It's too much," I told her. "My website is crashed, my e-mail too. My phone keeps ringing. People want to know about the brass legs, they want to make orders but I can't do it. There are too many. It's crazy, I don't know what to do or where to start; it's overwhelming."
"Your designs, they're documented?"
"What?"
"Mechanical drawings, schematics, software, you have it all, yes?"
"Yes."
"Okay, I can help you with this," Lumi said as she dug her phone out of her bag.
YOU ARE READING
Less Of Her
NouvellesClaudia 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.
