SF Drabble #67 “Spare Parts”

At first everything was a warm soothing glow. All he could feel was the mask tight across his mouth and nose. Later he became vaguely aware of bubbles rising through the tank, brushing his skin as they passed.

Now and then he would hear low distant murmurs. He opened his eyes only rarely. Once for a moment he thought he could see his own face peering through the glass, lips moving as if talking casually, but he couldn’t be sure.

The first thing he experienced with any real clarity or definition was when they came and took his left arm.

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