The blaring sound of my alarm instantly brings me back into reality. 

7 am. Time to get up.

I reach for my phone and swipe right. No snooze this morning. 

I drop a kiss on my fiance's cheek and asks her if she needs to get cleaned up but she shakes her head. As she does, I notice her hair are looking a bit greasy, although nothing that can't wait another day so I head off to the bathroom to shower. I proceed to scrub my body from head to toes under the invigorating flow of water while all the usual shower thoughts cross my mind. I win arguments that will never happen, question myself on the origins of the universe, and even practice my aim when I try to pee directly down the drain. 

After turning off the water, I wring my hair and get myself dry before turning my towel into a fancy dress. When I come back into the room, Sarah is awake and looking at me. She's sitting up against the cushions and reaches for the back of her head.

"I feel like I rubbed butter on my scalp." She makes a pouty face. "Is it too late to ask for a shower?"

"Of course not, sweety." I smile at her and push away a forest of red hair that just fell across my face. "I'll get the water ready for you."

"You're the best", she adds before blowing me a kiss. 

I swiftly dodge it and head back in to get the water ready and warm. By the time I set the curtain aside and a pillow on the floor, she has entered the room, still wearing the oversized shirt she slept with. With a flick of the wrists at the collar, I manage to pull it off of her body and instantly expose her nakedness. She shivers and the sight of her shrugging to try and warm herself breaks my heart. When I set her down in the tub, she hands me a bottle of shampoo and leans her head slightly backwards. I support some of her weight so she doesn't fall on her back like a turtle while I clean and rinse her hair. When her body is as clean as can be, I turn the water off again and drop her on the bathroom floor to get her dry. Then, she raises her arms and I roll her up in a towel like a fajitas before carrying her to the bed where I set her against a pile of pillows. I kiss her on the lips and quickly put some clothes on.

"I'm going to cook breakfast, need any help before I head off?" I ask gently.

"It's ok, sweetheart. I'll manage." Her smile, so sincere and true, melts my heart everytime.

"Alright, I'm coming back in 20!" I feel her cheek with the back of my hand before exiting the bedroom and closing the door behind me.

---------------

I sigh. It's happening more often than before. First, it was occasionnal but as time goes on, its becoming more and more frequent. From only once to twice, then to once every couple weeks and even more recently to once a week. Now, it's been about a year since this started and about half of the times when I wake up, I find that my body has been... reduced. When it happens, the world changes around me to fit my situation. That makes me the only witness of my current state. My eyes are still closed and I don't even need a visual check to confirm my thoughts. The emptiness that lies beyond my torso, the way the sheets touch the skin of my chest, how my hips... There's just no doubt about it. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling.

Roxanne's phone is ringing already. I need to wake up myself since I won't go too far without her help today. As soon as I decline her offer for a shower, I start to regret it. I can almost smell the stench coming from my arm pits and my hair feels so greasy I'm pretty sure she could use them to garnish her toasts. I guess I should at least get up if I have to ask to be cleaned up, especially after I just refused the opportunity.

I begin to stir, waking up the muscles in my torso for a routine exercice around the bed. I first push down on the mattress with my left hip and propulse my left shoulder upwards to flip over on my belly. From there, I shove my face in the sheets and contract my abs to inch forward like a worm, repeating the process until my breasts are resting on my pillow. I've thus gained a slight angle, which will help tremendously in my quest to uprightness. The full frontal contact of my pelvis on any surface still surprises me every time this happens. Maybe it's because I actually have a grudge against why I get to have the shortest of arm stumps but not a single bone sticking out of my hips. Just for luck, I mentally figure myself climbing a staircase and try to activate the corresponding muscles to push me higher on the pillow, but nothing happens. It feels just as if my legs are paralyzed, although they're just absent. Even the idea of being able to move something down there doesn't exist anymore in my brain. Also, I definitely stink. A lot.

Once again, my face plows through the pillow and I arch my back to get in a sitting position, precariously balancing on my bottom. Luckily for me, the mattress is hard as a rock and moving around isn't as hard as it seems. But, since I'm basically swinging my ass from side to side to progress, it sounds just as slow as it really is. I need a full minute to make it from my side of the bed to hers where I aim to lean against a neat pile of pillows. In the meantime, I feel the need to grunt to power each motion. The sleeves of my shirt are only filled halfay through and flop back and forth in rhythm with my swings. After I'm done waddling, I put most of my weight on my right side and pivot backwards, again, gaining only centimeters with each motions, before releasing the tension in my body to crumble against my improvised backrest.

The shower stops and startles me. When Roxanne steps out of the bathroom, I need to beg for a clean up. I lift an arm and shake it until my sleeve crumples around it. Then, I try to rub the back of my head.


"I feel like I rubbed butter on my scalp." My hair leaves my stump greasy and I make a sad face. "Is it too late to ask for a shower?"

"Of course not, sweety." She smiles at me. Even through the curtain of her hair, I know she's not mad. "I'll get the water ready for you."

I sigh in relief. "You're the best." I kiss my right stump and blow her a kiss, which she promptly dodges by going back in the bathroom.


Reaching the tub myself is the least (and best) I can do to compensate for her kindness. Leaving my comfortable resting position, I launch myself forward and land on my stumps, my nose absorbing the rest of the impact. From there, I roll to my left all the way across the mattress again until I reach the side, then move my pelvis so it meets the nearby floor and raise myself up once again. On days like this, the bed is set directly on the floor. I don't know how I'd manage to get down from it if it weren't.

Waddling on the solid floor is a lot easier since there's less drag than on the bed and I reach the door to the bathroom in no time. The water seems to be perfectly adjusted and she even set a pillow beside the tub for the comfort of her own knees. When I get through the door, the cold ceramic floor chills me to the bone. I hate shivering when my body is like this, I just feel like I'm going to shrug my shoulders up to the sky without anything ever happening. When Roxanne removes my shirt, it gets even worse. Luckily, she seems to understand this and quickly scoops me up to secure me into her loving arms. Being held is one of the best feeling this body allows me to feel.

When she sets me down into the tub, I lean forward to grab my bottle of shampoo and she retrieves it from between my arms. I wonder what she's thinking about on days like this, when she has to take care of me. Does it feel like a burden to her? A chore? Or did she accept it like I would with a trait of her personality? I still hope my body can still continue to manifest in its entirety most of the time. I feel so demeaned, left alone in this state. At least her presence comforts me, makes me feel still worth of something good. If only I could talk to her about all of this.

She's done now. I get placed on the floor and dryed and toweled and moved on the bed again. She asks if I need help to get dressed, which I usually do, but this morning I feel like doing it on my own. For her. Alright then. I've got a nice 20 minutes of struggling ahead of me.

Using my left arm, I undo the towel fajitas I was put in and dive forward to escape it, my chin and arms supporting most of my weight while I tense my abs to send my hips in the air and out of the towel. An invisible breeze chills my back and I allow it to reach the front of my body by arching myself upwards again. Now naked, my genitals unpleasantly rub against the sheets when I move to the side of the bed.

Raised right beside it is a wooden structure resembling a walker, only it isn't much taller than me. Elastic straps are fixed between the four poles in the corners and connect to a hollow seat-like structure in the center. It's so close to the bed I could probably slide my hips right into it, which is exactly what I intend to do. Fortunately for me, Roxanne had already set a pair of panties around the rim. I don't think I could manage to do that even with all the time in the world. When my ass sits right to the end of the mattress, I let myself fall on my back and rock my hips back and forth against the bed while pushing down with my arms. Slowly, my rump progresses forward, leaves the bed, and gets lower until I can feel the rim of the seat with my butt. I take a deep breath, count to three, and then simultaneously contract my abs and swing my arms and hips forward which sends me falling right through the set up. Yes! I try to clench my fists but instead my arms simply move up and down. My panties are still strapped onto the seat and the bands now stretch down to the floor. I turn to the right and use my forehead to hit a switch on the wood which releases all the straps from the scaffold.

Now, a shirt. I walk to a nearby rack and find some folded in two, ready for me to grab and put on. I spot a blue one and bite into the fabric to bring it down before turning around and making my way back to the bed. I swing my head and, after multiple tries, manage to lay it down with the bottom opening facing my position. Ass on the floor, in a 45° angle leaning on the bed, I fold part of the back over to open the way and force my face into the piece of clothing. When I'm in, I make sure I have fabric all around my head and swing it backwards to, hopefully, send it flying further over my shoulders. Of course, it doesn't. But after some more intense head banging, I can see myself making progress in the shirt. Soon enough, I can use my arms to direct the shirt over my luckily small breasts, then fit them into the adjusted sleeves and pull my head through the neck. After that, I have to get on my belly yet again and inch around the bed to adjust the shirt over the rest of my torso. When I rise again, I move over to the mirror on the wall and check myself out. The shirt is off-centered, but does reach my pelvis neatly. On it is a sad looking T-Rex with a caption that says : «If you're happy and you know it clap your... Oh.» Well fuck me. I waddle to the door and use the handle located in arm's reach to open it and push it open as far as I can, which means only halfway through, but plenty enough for me to exit the room. I can smell bacon and eggs already.

------

"So, how was the dressing up?" I ask while I grab her and set her on a chair. I tie her hair in a ponytail.

"Okay I guess. Thanks for the panties by the way."

"I always make sure there's some just in case." I close the stove and put equal portions of eggs in two plates already full of bacon. "So, are you hammering down on that book today as well?"

She looks over to her desk before answering: "I'm not too sure about today. Can't feel the inspirationg flowing."

"It's alright", I say as I put our plates on the table and kiss her. "As long as it's done in 6 months, am I right?" I grab her fork and set it on her plate right below her chin. She thanks me before attacking her plate. 

We eat mostly in silence. When coffee's ready, I get up and pour ourselves two steaming hot cups with a tiny drop of milk for Sarah's. She leans forward to blow on it and sips carefully while the liquid is still close enough to the edge, but I brought a straw for later when the cup will get emptier. I try to keep an eye on her while she eats, just in case she would have a hard time going through her motions this morning, but everything seems fine. Once, she gives me an inquiring look before diving back in her food, looking slightly bothered. I shrug it off. When we're both done, I put everything in the dishwasher and we do a quick bathroom run before I head off. After she's done, she asks for a pair of pants and bra which I help her put on and I set her on the living room floor before going back in our room to grab my stuff. With my purse and car keys in hand, I find her settled in front of the tv and working hard on turning it on. I get on my knees and kiss her on the forehead, on the cheek, and then on the lips. I linger there and go for more kisses and she gently feels my face with her arms. Back on my feet, I tell her what is within reach in the fridge as well as what time I'll be back. Then, with a stomach filled with butterflies, I leave for work.

---------

Jesus that table is far away. I would to take forever to reach it. Fortunately, by the time I waddled 3 times, Roxanne comes over to pick me up and delicately sets me on a chair. I like this one because it has armrests, so I can't really fall off it even if I fuck up real bad. We make conversation while she ties my hair in a ponytail and I tell her I'm not feeling too great about writing today. You can't blame me. Since I don't want to use a voice recognition software, I'm down from around 55 words per minutes to barely 20. I rarely write at all when I wake up like this, which has considerably slowed my progress since it's happening more often then before. I still have 6 months. 6 months to write the second half of a novel, fucking hell.

I kiss and thank her when she sets my plate on the table and she angles the fork so its right beneath my chin and resting on the plate. Eating is the worst part of this whole situation, I hate it. It's hard, and long, and tedious. But hey, I'm hungry. I lean down and squeeze the fork between my right shoulder and my cheek. By bending my torso forward and jerking my head certain angles, I manage to dig through the pile of eggs. When the fork is fully loaded, I carefully set it down, lower my face to the plate again and push down on the end of the fork to raise the food in my mouth. My arms are barely long enough for me pull the fork out of my mouth and, after precise stump gestures and rubs, I flip it over and start the whole story again. Angle and scoop. Lay down and get closer. Push down to lift food. Take fork back.

Roxanne's eating at least three times faster than me. She also has twice the amount of food that I have. Since 40% of my bodymass is gone, I get to eat a lot less. When she's halfway through her meal, she prepares my coffee and I manage burn my lips on the first sip. Then, just when I was getting the hang of eating again, I mess up 3 mouthfuls in a row right before I'm able to close my mouth on them. I try to be a big girl and sigh internally to avoid getting her attention. I wouldn't want her to be bothered by my special needs. When I look up to her, she seems to be checking on me as well. I feel like I'm blushing and dive back into my plate. 10 minutes and a sore back later, I finally finish my food and she cleans everything up.

She secures me in her arms and carries me over to the bathroom for my morning toilet meeting. She sits on the side of the bathtub and sets me on her lap, my back leaning on her chest. Her hand presses on my stomach to lift me ever so slightly while she slowly slides my panties off with the other hand. Just like she would a baby, she moves me over on the custom fit throne and holds my shirt up so I don't pee on it. My hips are so narrow now that I'd fall right through a normal sized toilet, but this adapted seat is curved inward and is easier for me to sit and balance on as well as being wider. My bladder is full but nothing is coming out. I try focusing on the muscles in my lower abdomen but only tears come out and my eyes begin to water. I quickly breathe in and out to flush them away, hopefully without Rox noticing any of it. I just need to forget her presence. It takes about a minute before I begin to pee even after I try closing my eyes, but she doesn't look bothered about it. She's respectfully looking away, waiting. When I'm done, she grabs some paper and...... The tears come rushing back in as she delicately wipes my genitals dry. I instinctively try to close my legs but nothing happens. On days like this, my dignity vanishes along with my four limbs. I'm lucky she's being so nice to me everytime, there's not much I would be able to do without her help. She asks if I feel properly cleaned and I nod. Again set on her lap, she slips my panties back on.

"Could you help me put some pants and bra on before you go?" I ask in a puny voice.

"Sure!" She says. "But then I gotta run."

There's not much difference between my pairs of pants and shorts, not in length anyway, but at least the pants are sewn shut, which protect my hips from irritation during the day. She lays me on my back, pulls them up tightly against my skin and zips them up. She then swiftly takes my shirt off before putting my bra on, adjusting my breasts just right, like I would if I had any hands, and putting my shirt back on. She carries me over to the living room and goes to grab her stuff for work. I move over to the couch to grab the remote using my mouth and throw it on the floor. Using the couch as support, I myself drop on all fours and power it on with my chin. I hear footsteps coming from across the appartment and Roxanne comes to wish me good day. I roll over to accept her love and her kiss fills my body with warmth. Just when I reach for her face with my stumps, she detaches herself from my lips and stands up again. 

"There's pasta in the fridge to your level, as well as two sandwiches. Fruits on the shelf. Your phone on the coffee table. I should be back around 4. Love you!"

And just like that, she was gone.