martes, 3 de junio de 2008


Somebody else's skin. . .

Sliding to the thick carpet, the woman decided that it was time to start if she wanted to make it on time. She sat in the lotus position and closed her eyes, concentrating.

Slowly all external noises faded and all she was aware of was her own breathing. She clearly pictured an image in her head, a red haired woman she had seen in the street in her way home, willing her body to change. Genes were rearranged, like Rubik cube colors in the hands of a smart child, changing tissue and bones at her command. With almost no effort her skin lightened, her limbs extended and filled with muscle; her face changed as well, mirroring the features of the woman, and her dark tresses dissolved into a closely cut helmet of fiery red hair.

When she finally stood up and went to check her new looks, an unfamiliar face looked back from the mirror. Her hair was no longer black, her skin lighter and creamy and she stood much taller than her own five foot two. The only thing that remained the same were her eyes. They had stayed the same vivid green color, not the clear blue she had pictured in her head. *Sloppy, but it will have to do,* she thought, wondering why it was so hard for her to consciously change the color of her eyes, when they so easily betrayed her true nature when she less wanted. Her now freckled skin was pearled with perspiration after her exercises, so she took a shower before leaving the place.

She always liked walking in somebody else's skin

Half an hour later, a tall red haired woman left the woman's apartment and headed towards the street. With a light step she quickly walked the dozen blocks that separated her from her destination, unable to erase the smile from her face. She always liked walking in somebody else's skin, she could almost believe she was somebody else, somebody human.

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