Part Human

Reader Logo by Michael Spring

Magda’s boyfriend, everyone agreed, looked gorgeous and she was in love. He worked at the hospital where she was a nurse. She watched him working out in the gym, saw the muscles ripple below the skin and loved what made him what he was.

She woke one morning to find one of her knees swathed in bandages. Her boyfriend, the perfect, dark-haired surgeon she had been dating, had dissected her knee overnight.

“Why?” she asked him.

“I couldn’t resist it. I wanted to look at those beautiful bluey veins. I want to see every part of you, close up,” he said, smiling. It was inconvenient, but it was touching in a way, and it wasn’t too long before she had healed.

Months after, without warning, he made an incision in her thigh to inspect the tightness of a sinew.

Then she found that he had removed two scars, one on an ankle and another on her shoulder, the outcome of falling from her new bicycle twenty years before. The skin graft took perfectly.

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