Brittany Mallett

Flesh and Blood

She flexed her hand. It would have to do. It wasn’t up to her usual standard but pickings were slim these days with the increased fighting. Besides, she had gotten used to the new leg quickly enough and despite her feet now being two different sizes. Time to worry about such things was fleeting so she was sure this transplant would be no different. If only they’d had time to remove this stupid tattoo. Who gets a tattoo anymore? Let alone one somewhere as visible as the hand. And a heart locket? It made her positively sick to the stomach thinking about the waifish woman who would have been the previous owner of this hand. Maybe she would find time to have the blemish removed if the fighting ever died down.