And as always when I go over a book I've had on the shelf for a while, I come across little sections that I just love, so I thought I'd share one with you today, from fairly early in the book.
I'm not saying who this character is. You can guess, but I'm keeping my lips sealed for now ...
Slight vibrations buzzed in his hands, and he knew that
in a lab somewhere they were testing the electrical connections in case he was
having second thoughts. They always did this; the government was like a little
monkey on his back whispering into his ear, reminding him what it would feel
like if he disobeyed.
He didn’t want to pull off his clothes, but he was tired,
it was warm, and he never slept well in his boots. He unlaced them and slid
them down over his feet, pulling off the black, holey socks to reveal one
normal human foot and one plastic molded lump with rounded outcrops for toes.
It fused seamlessly with his skin just below the ankle, the synthetic skin that
covered the flexible plastic barely discernible from human skin except for its
greater elasticity, its hairlessness, and that he felt nothing when he touched
it except a tug on the skin of his lower leg.
He hated the foot. He didn’t care about the scars that
cross-crossed his body because they scared people away and no woman that he
wanted would turn down the money he could offer, but the foot … it was his
leash. It reminded him every moment of every day that he was a government dog
and even the casual freedom that anarchists and dissenters claimed within the
walls of London was not his to share.
He rolled over and pulled a blanket over him, hiding it.
Chris Ward
29th October 2013
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