It was not a good day.
Amber's job wasn't hard, per se. As a medical secretary, her job was mainly to answer to and call patients on the phone, to give appointments, and to keep files in order. Of course, she knew it would be harder doing all of that without hands, but not as hard as it actually was.
What frustrated her the most was that she could only do one thing at a time. Papers, phone, pens, name it, she needed to press her stumps together to hold them. No more writing with one hand while reaching for the phone with the other, or anything that closely resembled multitasking. When the phone rang, she had to put down whatever it was that she was doing so she could use both arms. This felt so archaic, so ineffective.
Even her coworkers commented about her mood, noticing how out of touch she seemed. No one said a thing about her arms, obviously, which frustrated her even more. She ended up calling a cab and went home early, climbing on the couch wearing the baggiest clothes she could find to drown her brain into mindless television, drifting in and out of sleep for the rest of the day. Later that night, when Marcus had finally returned from work, she nibbled at her chicken nuggets without too much interest and eventually sent him to bed.
Two Office episodes later, after the credits had finished rolling, she turned off the television and stared at herself in the screen's black mirror. She looked at her reflection from across the distance and the twisted shape of her sleeves sent chills down her spine.
She made her way back to the bathroom, closed the door and undressed down to her underwear, particularly struggling to push her pajamas down with the rounded ends of her arms. Only then did she turn on the light.
She sighed at the sight of her body. Three days, starting over with different bodies. What would happen tomorrow? Will she have hands? Feet? Limbs at all? She lifted her arms and inspected her stumps, racking her brains trying to remember how to move her fingers or clench her fists. Might as well try to pick up a coin with her trunk. They stayed as still as pond water. She folded her arms and pressed the stumps against each other, something that wouldn’t’ve been possible at any point in her life before today. Unable to undo the clips on her back, she slid the straps of her bra off her shoulders and shimmied it to the floor, finding her way into one of Marcus' discarded shirts. She joined him in the bed, wondering what tomorrow would entail for her…
Day 4
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Amber sprung up on the bed screaming at the top of her lungs, drenched in sweat. Apart from the flashing green light of her smartwatch on the side table, the room was pitch black. Images ran through her mind like the remnants of a dream, like projected on the darkness that surrounded her. The sleeping figure beside her machinally felt his way to her thigh and gave it a little squeeze.
"M'you 'kay hon'?" He grumbled.
Slightly out of breath, she took a few seconds to answer. "Yeah.. Just a…” Amber was already vividly awake. “A nightmare, that's all. They've all felt so real the last few days..."
"Don't worry 'bout ithen." Turning around, he reached over to grab his girlfriend's buttcheek, brushing against her empty hip. "Come here and get back to sleep…"
As he tugged on her hips, she felt the sheets brush against them in the strangest of ways. She frowned, trying to make sense of it. Looking down was no help either, as she couldn't see past her nose. She laid down beside her boyfriend again, lifting her leg, meaning to hook it behind his back, but she could barely move at all. She tried to push herself towards him using her arms but a similar sensation came over her. It was as if the skin of her arms curved inwards right after her shoulders. It felt like this was where her arms stopped, or if the rest of them were still numb from sleep..
Marcus kissed his way to her lips, sliding his hands over her hips, dipping at her waist, nestling his hand on her chest and against her arm. She froze. She knew that feeling. She was getting familiar with it, actually. Had she slept so contorted that both of her limbs went numb during the night? She knew it wasn't that. She tried to reach over with her other arm and screamed again.
"Marcus!!! Marcus!! Marcus, my arms!!"
He forced his eyes open even through the dark. "Calm down, Amber, calm down…" She heard him shift besides her as he yawned, reaching for his phone. The flashlight came on. "It's okay, it's okay, Amber. What's going on?"
Still lying on her back, Amber again tried to push herself up with her arms but they barely moved at all. The phone lit up the shortened stumps of her arms and she yelped. "Oh my god Marcus!! What happened to my arms?!?" She stared down at the short limbs as she tried to command the muscles of her arms or hands to react.
What happened next went down very differently in Amber’s mind. What she tried was to lean on her left elbow, boosting herself forwards to turn on the lamp on her nightstand and then jolting herself off of the bed.
What actually happened was she rolled to the left, her arm buried underneath her weight while her right stump flapped her commands like a fish out of the water. She then kicked the empty air with her bare left hip, while her right stayed tangled in the sheets near her boyfriend. She had barely moved at all.
"Hey hey, it's okay." Marcus sat in the bed, flicking on the light on the ceiling fan. "Here, give me your arm."
“My fucking head…” She ordered her left arm to her face but was met with radio silence. She turned towards it and almost screamed again when Marcus tugged on it to pull her upright. Instead, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pursing her lips. “Could you get me some water, please? I… I think I'm still high from last night.”
“Sure thing, stay put.” He kissed her on the forehead.
As Marcus walked out of the room, she closed her eyes to focus on her breathing and scoured her body with her mind. Something was off. Actually, a lot of things were off. She freed her foot from the sheets and pivoted to set it on the ground, taking in her empty left hip again, impossibly seeing the floor right through where a leg was supposed to be.
The same thing happened when she lifted her arms. They both stopped barely an inch below her shoulders into symmetrical, slightly pointy stumps. Leaning backwards for balance, she slowly lifted her foot, her only limb really, and reached towards her left hip until it disappeared from her field of view. As it brushed against something, Amber felt a sensation near her groin, although she wasn't sure of where it was exactly. Marcus’ face appeared again, holding a glass of water. The stump of her arms lifted towards him ridiculously and the sound of a drum banged in the back of her head like a wakeup call. He helped her drink it all without spilling a single drop.
“There. Better?” He said lovingly. "You had one hell of a bad trip last night, I think you still need some time to shed it completely. I'll get some coffee dripping.”
WHY WAS HE SO CALM!! WHY WASN'T THIS A BIG DEAL TO HIM!!! She thought angrily. He left the room again, thinking nothing more of his confused girlfriend suddenly jerked awake from a nightmare.
This was the cherry on top of it all. Yesterday, she had been ready to challenge the world. Hell, she went to work missing her hands, that wasn't nothing, was it? she thought to herself. She thought she would be ready for today's predicament, but she never could predict such a dramatic change. She anchored her foot on the floor and once again inspected her arms. She craned her neck looking for a scar, scanning them as thoroughly as she could but found none.
Trying to balance on her leg, she flailed her remaining limbs and fell back onto the bed like an overturned turtle. Her eyes darted around the room. There, at the foot of the bed. A short rolling stool. She sat back on the mattress, swinging her leg forward as a counterweight, and scooted sideways before transferring to it, barely in control of her center of gravity. From there, like an astronaut during a risky space walk, she pushed her way into the adjacent bathroom without any arms to hold onto nearby walls or furniture.
Her reflection in the full length mirror hit her like a freight train. Tears rolled down her cheeks uncontrollably and seeing the puny arms at her sides only seemed to worsen her emotions. Unable to silence her sobs, she sealed her eyes shut.
Marcus looped back into the room and noticed her distress. "Come here, precious." He leveled with her and pressed her head against his stomach, unfazed by his girlfriend's three missing limbs.
"Marcus… I can't do this anymore…" She choked up. "What's happening to me? Where are my arms?! Where's my leg?!”
"Oh, precious. I know it all seemed so real, I'll throw away the rest of the pills if they affect you this much, okay?"
"Stop talking about the pills!! It's been three days since we took the pills!"
He was taken aback. “We took the pills yesterday, don't you remember?"
Even on the fourth day, she couldn't make any sense out of it. "I… I don't…" She kept looking at her leg, hoping the other one would magically reappear where it had always been. She closed her eyes again. “Is today Monday?
“Yes, honey.”
Amber shook her head. “I don't think I can work looking like this. I'll just stay at home today.” She tried to put her arms to her head but could barely reach her chin. “Bring me my phone please.”
He produced it from one of his pockets, showing her the locked screen picture, one she recognized immediately: both of them posing in front of a sunset on a beach of white sand. That was during their honeymoon three years ago. He was as handsome as the setting sun, sporting an unbuttoned white collared shirt and a few days old beard.
Lovingly snuggled in his arms, she wore a delicate short coral dress, smiling from ear to ear. She knew this photo by heart, but not like this. From the frilled sleeves, no arms came about. They remained empty, slightly bent by the invisible breeze. As for her legs, there was only one. The right.
“Okay thanks.” She lifted her right arm and motioned towards it with her chin. Marcus jammed the phone in her armpit and she rolled away holding it with her stump.
“I'm going to get breakfast started, meet me in the kitchen?”
“Sure.”
She answered absently, focused on keeping her balance as she wheeled herself back to her wardrobe. Again forgetting her short arms, she pushed her shoulders down to help her get up and sighed, instead rising on her single leg. She hopped twice to reach her clothes, spotting an asymmetrical top that would reveal her modest cleavage and part of her left shoulder. She used her mouth to tug on it and swung it towards her bed but it slid onto the floor. She did the same to a pair of jean shorts, only this time nailing the throw.
On the wall behind her, hooks had been screwed at different heights and Amber pondered them for a moment. She hopped to one and purposefully snagged the bottom of her shirt against it before squatting and effectively throwing it over her head. A shiver ran on her skin and she shrugged, stumps aimed at her chest, trying to cover herself. Back on the bed, she picked up the shirt between two toes and laid it out flat on the bed before turning on her stomach and squirming her head into it. Her arms rowed at her sides like broken oars but her leg was the real hero that pushed her through most of it. Sitting again, she tossed and turned until the collar sat atop her head and stood again to reach the hooks. Unable to see through the fabric, she felt blindly at the wall using her forehead to find a usable hook. First lowering her head, then sloooowly rising to stretch it until it snapped back around her neck. Her arms flapped to fix the shirt around her torso until they fit into the sleeves, far too short to ever peek out of them.
Then came the prospect of putting the shorts on. She stared down at her left hip again and imagined how a thigh could've ever been there. No matter how hard she tried, the sensations fleeted away from her. She couldn't recall, she couldn't remember. The more she thought about it, the more it escaped her. She knew how to ride a bike, how to swim… Right? Marcus and her often cooked dinner together, she still remembered that.
Amber tried to picture it in her mind. Standing at his side, knife in hand… the idea blurred and she looked down to an empty arm. She shook her head and closed her eyes but another vision forced its way instead. She sat on the countertop, holding a butcher knife between her big and second toe, imprecisely cutting cherry tomatoes in two. She looked up at Marcus beside her and her stomach knotted with love. He did most of the actual work, but still seemed happy to have some company.
She opened her eyes, taking in the room around once again. The rolling stool, the hooks on the walls, the bench in the shower. For the first time in four days, these things didn't seem so out of place. She unlocked her phone and looked through some older pictures, hoping to find evidence of an accident of some sort but there was none. It was as if she had been born this way. She locked her phone again and froze, only now noticing how naturally she just did it. What was happening to her?
She looked at the shorts again, their presence a challenge. Could she really do it herself? As she scooted towards them, Marcus entered the room and offered his help, which she gladly accepted. In the fraction of a second, he had slipped them on her hips and the whole thing was over. After asking nicely, she was carried over to the kitchen and offered him a kiss as payment, unable to refrain from smiling. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad day after all.
Marcus had prepared and cut toast into bite size pieces for her. She lifted a puny arm, leaning forward like trying to grab one with a hand, and chuckled. She reached in with her tongue instead, her breasts pressed against the side of the table.
“Am I driving you to the clinic today?”
Amber had a brief flash, as if her brain was catching up with the information. “Ummm, yeah sure.” Her mouth was sticky from the peanut butter. “Like always, right?”
“I know, I know, but you seemed pretty knocked off from the psilocybin we took last night, I thought maybe you were gonna take the day off.”
She shook her head, taking some time to think she finished her bite. “I don't want to lounge at home today, I wanna feel useful.”
“Good then.”
—
“Have a good day yourself, sir.”
She pressed on the spacebar with her nose to end the call before grabbing an unsharpened pencil between her teeth, eraser facing down. Then, one key at a time, she updated the patient's information, the time of their next appointment, as well as the reason for their visit. She dragged the mouse on the carpet using her foot and clicked the window close. Phew, another one done. The phone rang again.
As a medical secretary, this was 80% of her job. Talking to patients on the phone, setting appointments, etc. In her current predicament she had expected it to be absolutely awful, but had been pleasantly surprised. Instead of being alone at her desk, there was another girl to help her out. She didn't feel the pressure of performance like she usually did, or the fear of falling behind and having 20 lines waiting on the phone. She did what she could, at the speed that her body allowed her, while Sylvia picked up her slack.
She mouthed the pencil down, pressed the spacebar with an arm, and took the next call.
“Eastern General Clinic, this is Amber, how may I be of service?”
A deep masculine voice came out of her headset. “How’s your day going?”
“Pretty good, how about yours sir?”
“Oh, I bet it is. Can’t wait for tomorrow, am I right?”
She stammered, taken aback. “Excuse me?” The line clicked. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
Amber’s breathing quickened as she tried to remain calm. What the fuck was that? she thought, trying to make sense of what she had just heard. She stared at her computer screen, mouth agape.
“You alright there, Amber?”
It was Silvia. Hand on her shoulder, she seemed genuinely concerned about her coworker's well-being. “Did he insult or swear at you? You know how to check his caller id, right?”
Amber closed her eyes, a bit dizzy. “Remind me, will you?”
She punched a few buttons and the screen lit up. “Protected number. Of course.” Seeing as Amber didn’t move an inch, she bumped her chair to the side. “Take 15 on me. I’ll take care of the phone.”
“Oh… thanks.”
Amber shook her head and pushed her office chair further down the office to where she had parked her wheelchair and calculatedly transferred to it, flicking on the switch near her chin. She jammed the control stick between her big and second toe and drove herself to the break room, passing several people on the way there. The fact that nobody reacted to her new body astounded her. Surely someone would have noticed she had transformed into a triple amputee incapable of doing the simplest of tasks?
Yet they didn’t. Dr Philmore walked in for a coffee and chatted about the weather, asked about Marcus. And just like that, he left. No comments, no side looks, nothing. Amber retrieved her cellphone from the side pocket on the inside of her seat, folding her leg up to her waist without effort. She laid it on the table and tapped at it mindlessly with her nose, both stumps pressed perpendicularly against the cold melamin surface. Wanna get takeout for dinner tonight? Marcus texted her. How about some McDonalds? was her answer.
The rest of the workday was like any others, with the exception of her limbs still being missing, of course. Marcus picked her up at 5pm and Amber almost felt excited to dig in her box of chicken nuggets. Her leg ached from hip to toes, her muscles sore. She gave up using it and bent over her meal to eat like an animal, only using her lips and teeth to pick up and dunk the nuggets before devouring them in one bite.
Two Office episodes later, after the credits had finished rolling, Marcus turned off the television and helped her to her foot with a slap on the butt for good measure. She found a corner of her brain still able to chuckle and hopped away to the bathroom, placing her empty hip on the countertop. Folded in two, she secured a tube of toothpaste beneath her right arm and twisted the cap off with her lips, which sounded simple enough in her mind before she found out it would take her about a minute to do so. Straightening herself to take a bite of her toothbrush on the shelf, she bent forward again, this time spreading paste on the brush’s head and spilling half of that beside it. Biting on it again, she lowered herself to the ground and, still hunched forward, grabbed it with her toes to finally brush her teeth.
She sniffled to repress her tears, thinking back about her day at work. Jacqueline had been kind enough to help her go to the bathroom, like she always seemed to do, without any questions. Foam spilled over Amber’s chin and she could only wipe half of it using her left arm. She stood up again to rinse herself off, mouthing the sink on and off, craning her neck to drink water from the tap, stretching her tongue to pick up the damned toothbrush after it fell at the bottom of the ceramic bowl. She spat it to the side and hopped to a hanging towel to dry her mouth and stump.
She took a last look at her body and jumped onto the bed face first into her pillow.
There’s no way it could be worse tomorrow, right? No arms, one leg, a wheelchair, there’s just no way. She scrunched her toes, wondering how she could’ve done it without any limbs at all. She couldn’t have. There was no way she could do any work without limbs. She just had to hope it wouldn't happen when she woke up.
Day 5
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Amber sprung up on the bed screaming at the top of her lungs, drenched in sweat. Apart from the flashing green light of her smartwatch on the side table, the room was pitch black. Images ran through her mind like the remnants of a dream, like projected on the darkness that surrounded her. The sleeping figure beside her machinally felt his way to her hand and gave it a little squeeze.
"M'you 'kay hon'?" He grumbled.
Slightly out of breath, she took a few seconds to answer. "Yeah.. Just a…” Amber was already aware of how this day was about to go on. “A nightmare, that's all. They've all felt so real the last few days..."
"Don't worry 'bout ithen." Turning around, he reached over to grab his girlfriend's buttcheek, brushing against her breast. "Come here and get back to sleep…"
As he tugged on her hips, she felt the sheets brush against her legs in ways she was able to recognize. She sighed with relief. Her legs were back again. She stretched them long and hard, enjoying their return, before hooking one to secure her boyfriend at her side.
She reached down to pull the sheets back over her and even though she could feel her hands, she could not get a good grip on the sheets. They slipped out of her grasp like smoke. Looking down was no help either, as she couldn't see past her nose. She sat back up and reached for the sheets once more, but the same sensation came over her. She could feel her arms, her wrists, and her hands but it was as if her fingers had gone numb.. She brought her hands together and repressed a scream.
She tried to count on her fingers. One, two… That couldn't be… She tried again with the same confusing result. She shook her head and got up, almost immediately tumbling to the side. She caught herself on the edge of the bed, again getting a weird feeling from her hands and more cautiously made her way into the adjacent bathroom. She turned on the light and sighed in relative relief.
She did have hands, although they only had a finger each, the pinkies to be precise, and her hands had only formed halfway through. Where her other fingers should’ve been, her palms curved inwards without any indication that digits should’ve been there at all. She folded them, like trying to clench her fists, and laughed. They looked so ridiculous. But at least she had fingers.
—
Work felt good that day. Of course, she was still missing 80% of her digits, but she thought she was doing a pretty good job at keeping up with her usual workload. Plus, she was getting compliments on a new skirt she decided to wear! As the phone rang, she reached for the receiver on her ear and clicked it with her sole finger.
“Eastern General Clinic, this is Amber, how may I be of service?”
A deep masculine voice came out of her headset. “How’s this day going?”
Amber froze. “I.. I know your voice. You’re the one who called yesterday.”
“Uh oh. Got me. Can’t wait for tomorrow, am I right?” The call ended.
“Hello? Hello?!”
She groaned and tapped a puny fist on her desk, again trying to trace back the caller id without any success. She checked the time and made a mental note.
Day 6
Amber sprung up on the bed, this time able to repress her scream, but still drenched in sweat. Apart from the flashing green light of her smartwatch on the side table, the room was pitch black. Images ran through her mind like the remnants of a dream, like projected on the darkness that surrounded her. The sleeping figure beside her machinally felt his way to her thigh and gave it a little squeeze.
"M'you 'kay hon'?" He grumbled.
Slightly out of breath, she answered without skipping a beat. "Yeah.. Just a…” Amber was already scanning herself for imperfections. “A nightmare, that's all. I think I’ll get up, pretty sure I won’t be able to sleep anymore."
"You do you..." Turning around, he reached over to grab his girlfriend's buttcheek, brushing against her breast. "Give me at least 5 more cuddling minutes…"
As he tugged on her hips, she felt the sheets brush against her legs in ways she was able to recognize. She sighed with relief. Two days in a row with both of her legs, how lucky could she be. She stretched them long and hard, enjoying their return, before hooking one to secure her boyfriend at her side.
She reached down to pull the sheets back over her and a slight shift at her sides confirmed her suspicions, although she wasn’t 100% sure of the details yet. Looking down was no help either, as she couldn't see past her nose. She sat back up and reached for the sheets once more, but the same sensation came over her. She could feel one arm, or at least something articulating out of her left shoulder, as well as fingers at its end. But when she wiggled them, they seemed to reach only down to her ribs. She pivoted her legs off the bed and stood up, taking a moment to regain her balance, before making her way into the adjacent bathroom and turning on the lights with her mouth.
On her left shoulder was an arm, or at least something that could be called an arm. Instead of growing out to the side, it was angled directly downward close to her ribs and ended about 4 inches down into a three fingered mess of a hand. No thumb, no proper fingers, but rather fleshy protrusions that she could bend if she put enough effort into it. She tried to lift it up but barely made it 45 degrees before it stopped, her retracted shoulder too weak to handle a wider movement.
Since her dangling sleeve was hiding whatever waited for her on the other side, she sat on the countertop and skillfully brought a foot to her waist. She grabbed her shirt between her first two toes and flipped it up and away from her. She sighed and brought her shoulder closer to the mirror.
Nothing.
No stump, no fingers, no bumps, not even a shoulder per say. From her ribcage, her body curved inwards until it reached her neck, giving her torso an astonishing asymmetry. She found she could barely even shrug on that side. She stayed in front of the vanity, staring at herself for the longest time, still trying to understand. Could the guy that called her at work have anything to do with what was happening to her? Since this whole thing had started, he seemed to be the only other person aware of it all, and he was teasing her about it. She shook her head and walked back to the bed, throwing herself next to Marcus.
“Changed your mind, did you?” He grumbled and reached for a kiss, brushing against her naked breasts with a hand. “Ohhhh, I see what’s going on.”
“No it’s…” Amber stopped herself before she could say another word. She smirked. “Touching is forbidden. Touch with your eyes only.”
“With my eyes only, huh? I could’ve sworn I saw a sign somewhere that says this is an interactive display.” He slowly brought up a hand, walking with his fingers on her skin as if playing the piano. He reached the base of her breasts soon enough. She took a deep breath and reached for his crotch with her knee, feeling his erection. “Retroactive feedback? Pretty good design for a museum…”
He circled her areola with a finger before fitting her entire breast in his palm. Her arm twitched up a few inches upwards and grinded to a halt, fingers raised above her silhouette, then clenched it close to her chest. Her breasts remained out of reach.
“I want you inside me.” The words surprised her even though she was the one who uttered them.
Marcus jumped on the occasion and sent his boxers flying across the room before disappearing under the sheets to tug on Amber's underwear. He tickled her inner thighs with his growing beard, kissing her labias, his breath hot on her junk. Her eyes revulsed and she gripped the sheets with her toes, heaving as she struggled with her ineptness. The deformed fin tapped at her side trivially and she moaned loudly as a way to relieve some of the pressure inside her body.
Without her noticing, Marcus' mouth had left her thighs to kiss her lips again, allowing Amber to get a taste of herself. Again she tried to reach his face, and again her shriveled arm twitched at her side. She hooked her legs behind his back and pulled him close as he made his way inside her. Without any control over the situation, all she could do was curl her toes and lock her feet together. But having sex had never felt so good.