A Fantasy Come True

By Ed Carlson

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This story is purely fictitious. The names used herein are for character

identification and should not be construed as real people, alive or dead.

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I walked out to the pool for my first swim on this vacation. I dove in and popped up, rolled over on my back, and floated on my back for a few minutes. The water was warm—as was the morning Mexican sunshine. It was a lot warmer than winter in North Dakota, and I was determined to make the best of the last two days of my week in the sun. I was really glad to be in paradise for a while.

I flipped over on my stomach to swim to the edge of the pool. It was right then that I caught a glimpse of her as she walked around the corner and went behind one of the buildings of the complex. I had seen her the night before in the restaurant, and she had returned my smile. She was my kind of girl, drop-dead gorgeous and an amputee. From my very brief glimpse of her, it appeared as though she had no left arm at all.

I swam over to the edge of the pool and hoisted myself out. I walked over to the chaise lounge chair where I had laid my towel. I looked around as I toweled myself off. I like mornings before the kids all hit the pool. This morning I was especially lucky; I had the place all to myself. I sat down in the chair and faced into the warm morning sun. I closed my eyes and relaxed.

After a little while, I heard someone walking near me wearing sandals. ‘Oh swell,’ I thought. ‘I’m about to be joined by someone I never wanted to meet in the first place.’ I kept my eyes closed and waited. My wait would soon be over.

“Good morning,” a melodious voice said.

“Good morning,” I replied as I opened my eyes and shielded them from the sun with my hand. I could not make out who it was because of the bright sunlight.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she said as she moved around so that I was not looking directly into the sunlight.

“Not at all. Please do,” I responded when I saw it was the girl with the missing left arm. “Do you need help with that?”

“I can manage. Thanks for the offer,” she said. “Been down here long?”

“I got in six days ago. This is my last full day. What about you?”

“This is my second day. I got in yesterday afternoon. I saw you in the bar last night,” she replied.

“Judging by your tan, I guessed you’ve been here for a month.”

“Naw, I’m from Los Angles. I have plenty of opportunity to get some sun. I’m guessing by your new tan that you’re from somewhere cold.”

“How about North Dakota? Is that cold enough?”

“I bet it is this winter by what I see on TV.”

“You’ve got that right. The TV says thirty-below last night, but it’s going to warm up to ten-below today.”

“Sounds like a heat wave,” she replied. “I’m glad we’re here in the sun. Want to go for a dip?”

“In the pool, or in the ocean?”

“The pool for now; maybe if you’re not doing anything this afternoon, you can take me out in the ocean. I don’t swim as well as I used to now that my arm’s gone.”

“What happened to it?” I quizzed.

“Bone cancer.”

“They got it all, didn’t they?”

“Oh yes. I don’t have any cancer at all.”

I got up to join her in the pool. My first impression was right. She was drop-dead gorgeous.

“My name is Ann, Ann Carter,” she said, extending her right hand.

“Nice to meet you Ann. My name is Brad Anderson,” I said, taking her hand in mine. She had the firm handshake that I like in a woman.

I dove in, and she dove in as soon as I surfaced. I swam over to an area where I could touch bottom and waited for her. Her head popped up above the surface of the water, and she looked around for me. She worked her way over to me using a sidestroke quite effectively. She touched bottom as soon as she could.

“Boy, that feels good,” she said.

“You won’t get an argument out of me. You sure don’t find pools like this in the middle of winter back home.”

“What are the pools there, a three-foot chunk of ice?”

“Hopefully, the pool owners had enough sense to drain them. Ice in a pool can really raise hell with them.”

We swam side by side. I matched her stroke to stay beside her. When we reached the shallow end again, she said: “I want to jump off the rocks by the waterfall. Come on and hold my hand.”

We got out of the pool, and I followed as she climbed up on the rock that made the waterfall into the pool. When I finished enjoying the view of her climbing, I joined her on top. We stood at the edge, and I held onto her right hand as we looked over.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked.

“I am if you hold my hand,” she said.

“How are you going to hold your nose?”

“I don’t know; let’s jump and see what happens,” Ann said.

Still holding her hand, we jumped. The time in the air seemed like an eternity, even though it was only a second or two. We hit the water and were still holding hands as we went straight to the bottom. I felt her kick off to start back up, and I released my grip. I followed her to the surface. When I surfaced, she was coughing and thrashing around in the water, obviously in trouble. I came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist. Her struggling stopped when she realized that I was holding on to her, even though she was still coughing. I started pulling her toward shallow water until we could touch the bottom.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I think I have half of the pool up my nose,” she coughed. “Remind me not to do ‘jump off’ without holding my nose again.”

We got out and sat in the sun. We chatted, and hit it off pretty well. She wanted to go to the market downtown, but she didn’t want to go by herself. I agreed to go with her. We separated and went back to our respective rooms. After changing into something suitable for the trip to town, I went over and knocked on her door. She opened the door with a big smile and was ready. She was wearing a sleeveless blouse, which showed off her armless shoulder. We walked to the lobby and caught a bus for town. I’d ridden the bus before and knew it stopped near the market. The bus trip is an interesting ride, but this time it was more interesting having the one-armed beauty with me.

The bus ride took only about twenty minutes. We stopped at the town square and walked across to the market. As usual, the market was full of vendors. We shopped and were hounded by the merchants trying to hock their wares. She bought a few things, as did I. We looked in some of the other stores for a while and then caught the bus back to our hotel. This time, there were some younger riders on the bus who stared openly at Ann’s armless shoulder. They looked, but didn’t say anything.

When we got back to the hotel, we decided to go swimming in the ocean. I walked her to her room and then went to mine. I had just finished changing when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it to see her in a very skimpy bikini that left very little to the imagination. I went back in to get a towel, and she followed me. I picked the towel up and turned back to the door. As I did, we were face to face. She put her only arm around my neck and, just like in the movies, our lips met. It was a kiss that showed some passion, kind of like an ‘I sure am glad to see you’ kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all morning,” I said when we were finished.

“Then why didn’t you?” Ann quizzed.

“A little bashful I guess.”

“I’ll accept that. Are you ready for that swim?”

“If we keep this up, I’ll be ready for more than that,” I said.

With that, she started for the door, and I followed. We followed the path down to the beach. There were not many swimmers, but several people were lying on the white sand beach sunning themselves. We laid our towels on the beach, and she grabbed my hand. We started running for the water and were met by a three-foot wave. She let go of my hand and began swimming by herself using her sidestroke. I easily kept up and stayed close by her. We had a great time frolicking in the warm ocean water. We even kissed a couple more times while we were out in the water.

We decided to get out and lay on the beach for a while. We spread our towels out side-by-side and lay down in the hot sun. I was starting to bake quickly and develop a sunburn. I was about to suggest that we head back when a beach vendor came by selling blankets. We quickly decided that we should go back to the pool and the shade of the umbrellas.

We picked up our towels and walked back up the path to the hotel. We found chaise lounges available under an umbrella at the pool with the swim-up bar. We stretched out for a while and then went into the pool. We found ourselves at the swim-up bar. She ordered a drink that was served in a large coconut, and I had a Mexican beer. We finished our drinks and swam in the pool a while longer. Then we got out and sat in the shade for a while.

“If you don’t have any dinner plans, I like it if you would join me,” I invited.

“My only plans are to get back on the plane at the end of next week. I’d love to.”

“Great. I have a favorite place right on the beach. It’s a great place to watch the sunset, and the seafood is outstanding.”

“That sounds wonderful. What is the dress code?”

“I was going to wear my khaki shorts and socks.”

“Wow, socks. That really is dress up. I have a sundress; will that do?”

“You’d look good in anything,” I replied.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush,” she teased.

The day was heating up, and soon we were napping in the shade. When I woke up, she was not there. When I sat up, I saw her in the pool again. I joined her. We swam a while and then got out again. I dried her off and, in the process, touched her armless shoulder and kind of pulled away.

“You can touch it. It won’t break,” Ann said.

“I didn’t know how sensitive it might be,” I replied.

“I’ll let you massage it later if you want,” she said seductively.

“It all depends what you have in mind,” I replied with a smile.

When we were dried off, we walked over to her room. She said it would take a little while for her to get ready. I told her to call my room when she was set. She went into her room, and I walked over to mine. I showered and shaved in anticipation of the evening. I got dressed and turned on the TV for a while. I was right in the middle of a CNN News flash when the phone rang. They were talking about a shark attack somewhere; I didn’t hear where. The phone call was Ann saying that she’d be ready in five minutes and to come over for a drink. I didn’t hesitate and soon found myself knocking on her door.

“Brad, come on in,” Ann said. “What can I fix you?”

“A scotch and water would be great,” I replied.

She emerged from the kitchen area carrying a glass and handed it to me. She was wearing the sundress that she had talked about earlier. It was one of those that covered the bottom half of her breasts and almost none of the upper part of them, as well as most of her nice looking long legs. It was held up by two straps about the size of shoelaces. The low-cut dress really showed off her armless shoulder. It was almost as though she picked the dress to do just that on purpose. She had fixed her hair, and she looked ravishing.

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “You look hot.”

“Thank you,” she said as she came over and gave me a kiss. “Come on in and sit down; it’s still early.”

“We should be there in about a half hour to get the best sunset.”

“OK. Let’s finish our drinks, and then we can go,” Ann said as we sat down on her couch. “It’s too bad that you have to leave tomorrow. We’re just getting acquainted.”

“Isn’t that the way it always is?” I replied. “I wish I could stay, but my boss would have a fit.”

“Why don’t you stay? Who’s going to buy a tractor in the middle of winter anyway?”

“I have a boss who’s short on understanding, if you know what I mean. He’s a workaholic and doesn’t want anyone else to take a break.”

“Oh well, I tried,” Ann said wistfully. “I suppose we should get going.”

We got up, and she took the glasses into the kitchen. As we started for the door, we engaged in another kiss. The passion in her kisses was building.

We walked over to the lobby where several open-air cabs were just waiting for our business. I told one of the cabbies the name of the restaurant, and we got in. I noticed the looks at her missing arm that the cabbies hanging around the lobby gave her. We took off for our short drive to the restaurant.

The hostess remembered me and the tips I had given her on several occasions. She seated us at a table right next to the rail. Ann chose a seat so that her armless shoulder was adjacent to and in full view of the other restaurant patrons.

The waiter asked us if we wanted drinks as he brought menus. We each ordered. Ann wanted one of the drinks in the coconut again. I had my scotch and water. The waiter hurried off and soon returned with our drink order. We looked over the menu and decided on the seafood combo served hot on a small hibachi.

The waiter left, and we watched the beginning of the sunset. We chatted while the sun began to approach the sea and become huge. It seemed to get even larger as it began to drop behind the horizon. The sun continued to drop and was soon just a small semicircle and finally dropped into the sea with one last little flash. As it set, we leaned across the table and kissed briefly.

Soon the waiters brought out our food arranged artfully on the hibachi. They placed a plate in front of each of us, as well as silverware rolled up in a napkin. I watched her as she removed the napkin ring with her one hand and put the napkin on her lap.

“I’m amazed at how well you do things with only one hand,” I observed.

“I’ve had lots of practice,” Ann replied.

“What can I do for you?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “I can handle these OK.”

She used the tongs to take several pieces of seafood and put them on her plate. She passed me the tongs and picked up her fork. She had absolutely no problem eating. I marveled when she opened a dinner roll with one hand. She had no trouble at all spreading the butter with the roll sitting on her plate.

We enjoyed our food and passed on the dessert. The waiter brought our bill and I paid. We got up and left the restaurant. I could hear the whispers as we walked out. We caught one of the open-air cabs back to the hotel complex. I put my arm around her and was able to hold onto her armless shoulder as she snuggled close to me. The shoulder felt a lot softer than I thought it would.

We decided to stop at the hotel bar for another drink. Every eye in the place was on us as I walked in with the one-armed beauty. She chose a table and sat so that her armless shoulder faced the rest of the bar patrons. We ordered our drinks. This time, Ann had a double.

“Have I told you how ravishing you look?” I said.

“I believe that you may have said it earlier,” she replied. “You can say it again anytime.”

“I’ve watched you all day. I’ve marveled at your abilities to do things with just one hand.”

“Thank you. I’m quite proud of my accomplishments. I’ve had a lot of practice—even before I lost my arm.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Have you ever heard of a pretender?”

“No, but I can imagine it’s someone who pretends. I don’t get it; what does it have to do with you?”

“Let’s go back to my place and let me tell you,” she said.

We quickly finished our drinks and walked back to her room. She was a little tipsy and dropped her key. I picked it up for her and opened the door, then went inside.

“I want to get comfortable. Why don’t you make us some drinks and you get comfortable too?” Ann said before she disappeared into the bedroom.

I kicked off my shoes and took off my socks, then went into the kitchen. I fixed us a couple more drinks and took them into the living room. I sat down and about lost it when I saw her come out of the bedroom. She had gotten comfortable all right. The only thing she had on was a pair of bikini panties and nothing else.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said as she sat beside me. “This is the way I usually run around at home.”

“No, not at all. Did you run around like that before you lost your arm?”

“No. I was uncomfortable with my body and wanted to be different.”

“I don’t understand?” I said.

“You figured out pretender. Are you familiar with the term wannabe?” Ann asked.

“No, but I’m assuming that it means you want to be something you’re not.”

“You’ve hit it pretty much on the head. I was an amputee wannabe and a pretender. I was lucky enough to fulfill my fantasy.”

“You pretended you were an amputee. Now let me guess; you had your arm cut off on purpose.”

“Yes. I did it because I wanted to be different,” Ann said.

“I guess I don’t understand. Why?”

“Let me tell you the story, and maybe you’ll understand. There are very few people who know about this, so I wouldn’t want this spread all over the Internet.”

“Fine. I won’t tell anyone. You’ve piqued my curiosity. Let’s hear it.”

“I’ll tell you my story, but be warned that it’s long.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go until tomorrow.”

“I’ve never told anyone before and now is as good a time as any,” she began.

“Some five years ago, I stumbled across the old ASFA newsgroup on the Internet and I met some other people who were like me, wanting to be different. One was a woman in Eastern Europe who actually was able to realize her dream of being a leg amputee. It seemed that she pretended so often that the circulation in her leg was compromised, and she lost her foot above the ankle. The sad part of her story was that she wanted to be AK, and when she finally pretended herself into a second amputation, she had the short stump that she wanted for only a week or so. The wound became infected; that spread to the bone, and she lost the whole leg in a HD. She was devastated. We lost touch at that point, as my desire was for a complete SD, and she couldn’t relate to that. (Anymore than I could relate to her leg amputation, I guess.)

“Anyway, I found a guy in Texas who was really supportive of my desire, and we started some ‘virtual pretending’ sessions. Finally, with his help, I was able to rig up a padded harness and was able to bind my arm tightly behind my back. In a floppy sweater, it looked fairly convincing. I came out of the closet at that point and started to do some mall crawling. I loved the attention I was getting, and my desire was really amplified. It was really fun. That went on for a few months, and I became a weekend SD. The only problem was that I really wanted to show off a bare shoulder and not my floppy sweater.

“At that time, I was working as a lab tech at a large research hospital in Denver, and I became professionally close to a visiting doctor from Hong Kong. After I knew him fairly well, and during a late-night coffee break in the bowels of the hospital, I confessed that I fantasized about being an amputee. He didn’t seem surprised. I guess he just thought I was nuts or that perhaps all American girls were. I don’t know if he ever saw ASFA or connected me to the ‘Joanne’ there, but somehow I had the feeling that he knew about the group and me. I was never able to confirm that though.

“Anyway, his research appointment was just about over and he was scheduled to return home. He confessed that he was really headed for Mainland China, and his Hong Kong connection was just to get quick approval for a U.S. research grant. Then he laid the most incredible suggestion in my lap. He asked me to come to China with him and continue as his assistant for one year. If I were to do that, he would arrange to have my left arm removed at the shoulder.

“Wow. That was a real shock. I never really believed that this dream could come true, and now the dream sounded like it might be a nightmare. What should I do? He gave me one week to decide. I took two days and said yes. As soon as I had made the commitment, it was like a huge load was lifted from me. I was going to be the way I wanted and face an incredible adventure at the same time.

“It took a while to get the permissions and visas that I needed to travel to the PRC, but we got them, and we left the U.S. behind one day before my twenty-sixth birthday. After a wonderful week in Hong Kong, it was time to head west. It was a little touch and go with my U.S. written credentials, but they were in pretty good order, and we made it across the border without too much trouble. It took another week to travel inland to the village, well, ‘city’ according to him, where his clinic was located. We had agreed that I was to be troubled with chronic pain in my upper left arm and that he would begin diagnosis as soon as we got established in the clinic.

“You can speculate on the next steps. It seemed that I was in the early stages of bone cancer and that I could choose to return to the U.S. for advanced radiation and chemotherapy, or I could face amputation in China. Since radiation and chemo weren’t known to be very effective for this kind of tumor, that choice was considered very dangerous and that likely I would lose the limb anyway, if not my life. We decided that the best course of action was immediate amputation.

“The night before my surgery was one of the longest nights I can remember. I was happy, scared, terrified, and worried all at once. This was going to be the most permanent choice I had ever made. I think I talked myself out of it at least a dozen times. Each time I decided not to go through with it, the sense of loss was overwhelming. By morning, I was ready and anxious.

“I don’t remember too much of the next few days. I was told that the surgery went well at first, but at the time of the dislocation of the joint that some arteries were torn and I started to bleed badly. I guess it was serious because they told me that I nearly died on the table. I was really out of it for a few days post-op, and now when I think back on it, I really didn’t feel too good about the whole thing for some time after that.”

“How did you really feel about almost dying?” I asked.

“I am probably too young to be done with the invincibility syndrome that we all have in our youth,” she replied. “I’m sure you know the feeling. ‘It can’t hurt me!’ is probably why so many teens smoke. Anyway, I was really out of it when the crisis was happening. When I started to be aware of my surroundings again, I was beyond that. I can tell you I don’t remember any tunnels of light or old dead relatives welcoming me home. Darn it. That would have been cool. They probably know what happened to the Roswell aliens. And Elvis! Maybe next time.

“As an aside, you have no idea how much sympathy I got when they discovered, much too late, that the cancer was misdiagnosed and I only had a bad infection. At least the good news was that I didn’t need to experience any follow-up chemotherapy. Pretty cool, huh?

“Anyway, we had agreed that I was to have a very natural looking shoulder that simply had no arm. As the shoulder disarticulation isn’t usually done for cosmetic purposes, the procedure for completing the process wasn’t well documented. We kind of had to wing it. In fact, I think that it may be documented in a journal someday. It depends on if I will return to China or not. But that’s getting ahead of the story. We thought that the skin flap from the upper arm should extend well below the axilla, the arm pit, so I wouldn’t be troubled with the need to shave or have strange textured skin. Also, we thought that the muscle mass that attached to the upper arm would be sufficient to provide adequate mass under the skin so that the result looked correct.

“We were wrong. The skin flap worked OK, but when the swelling went down (that took forever!), my shoulder was recessed and lumpy. It just didn’t look like the image I had in mind. I tried exercising the muscles, but they didn’t have enough resistance (I suspect), and I couldn’t develop the mass I wanted.

“Eventually over the next 18 months, I had three more surgeries. The first was, are you ready for this, a silicone implant to get the correct mass and round out the shoulder. I’m told it is fun to play with too—a side benefit I suppose. The second and third were to perform some microsurgeries to make the scar invisible. It really worked well. I’m very happy with the result, and if I do say so myself, I look really great strapless. It is the exact look I wanted. I can get a very even tan, and there is hardly visible evidence that I once had an arm.”

“You bet you look great strapless. But I thought that microsurgery was a pretty advanced technique. I didn’t think that they could do it in a small village,” I said.

“I should have mentioned that we traveled to Beijing for the implant as well as the plastic surgery. I was also fitted with a prosthesis there. You’re probably surprised at that. Why would someone want their arm removed and then bother with an artificial one? You aren’t alone. I wonder about that at times too. I don’t use it very often. It is made of very light metal, but the harness and straps are uncomfortable. The joints are friction placed; now you set the position with the good hand, but a myoelectric interface is possible later. We’ll see. If I really wanted the difference to be just a hook, then I should have chosen below the elbow amputee, not shoulder disarticulate. Kind of late to go back. But I’ve digressed.

“The time in China went quickly, and even though we had to extend my original commitment for a year of service to accommodate the extra surgeries, I decided to stay on and finally extended my visit to almost three years. In that time, my professional relationship became a more intimate one and that helped me appreciate the Asian experience even more. My visa was going to run out at the same time that we got an invitation to attend and speak at the WTO meeting in Seattle.

“We accepted the invitation and headed back. I told my friend and lover that I might return, and I might not. I knew I wanted to see the U.S., and I wanted to dress in a way that would never be accepted in the middle of China. When I left the U.S., I sold my car and most of my belongings. I pooled this with some savings and invested in the stock market. It did really well while I was gone in China!

“After the meeting, which was a real joke by the way, I bought a car—a stick shift, I’ll have you know—and headed south. I did San Francisco for the Millennium, and now I’m living in Southern California. I still haven’t decided if I want to return to him. Even if the visa problem was an easy hurdle, which it isn’t, I think I don’t want to go back. We’ll see. Right now, I’m just enjoying being an American again.”

“Wow. That’s quite a story,” I said almost in disbelief. “Do you have a desire to have your other arm removed too?”

“And be a DSD? No. Not at all. I would feel very disabled and helpless if that were to happen. That’s not where I am with all this. I don’t know what I’d do; I’d need help with everything. I just know it’s absolutely the last thing I would want to have happen to me. With that in mind, I almost didn’t go through with the amputation.”

“I still can’t believe that you had your arm cut off on purpose.”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted. If you really want to turn me on even more than you do, run your tongue over my scar.”

“I can’t even see one,” I replied. “The surgeons did a beautiful job.”

“Get undressed, and let’s get into bed. I’ll show you exactly where to touch,” Ann invited.

Being a red-blooded male, it didn’t take a second invitation, and very soon our naked bodies were touching each other in her bed. Our kisses grew ever more passionate, and our excitement grew. She showed me exactly where to touch her shoulder. When I began massaging the scar with my tongue, she became very aroused and was soon having an orgasm. She climbed on top of me, and soon we were climaxing simultaneously.

It was early morning, and we were both exhausted when the lovemaking ended. I fell asleep with her nestled in beside me and holding her armless shoulder. I liked the feel of the implant.

The sun was shining in my face when I awoke. I looked at my watch and suddenly realized that I still needed to pack and get to the airport. As I began to move around, Ann awoke also. I told her I had to go, and she sleepily said OK.

I left her room and went to mine. After a quick shower, I set about packing for the trip home. Luckily, I was traveling light and only had two small bags. This trip I hadn’t loaded up on souvenirs. I was about ready to leave when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it to find Ann standing there in a tube top and shorts. The tube top did wonders for showing off her prize armless shoulder.

“I’m going to ride to the airport with you if you don’t mind,” she announced.

“I was just going to catch the shuttle,” I replied.

“Good. I can ride out and ride back with them. I don’t want to let you out of my sight too soon. You might hook up with one of these good-looking Mexican women.”

“I’m on my way home to North Dakota; who in their right mind would want to go there?”

“That’s a good question. Why are you going?”

“Because I have a good job, and I don’t want to lose it. North Dakota isn’t so bad once you get used to it.”

“How long will it take for me to acclimatize?” Ann asked.

“Well, you don’t want to go this time of year. Being used to eighty-degree weather and going to below-zero weather will make you want to leave in a hurry. It’s best to come in the late spring when things have greened up a bit.”

“OK. That’s when I’ll come.”

“Really?” I asked as I picked up my bags.

Ann walked out ahead of me, and I closed the door behind us. We started walking toward the lobby.

“Are you really going to come up and visit me?” I asked again.

“I’d like to, if you’ll have me,” Ann replied. “We seem to have hit it off, and I think I’d like to get to know you a little better.”

We reached the lobby and registration desk. They had my bill all figured out, and all I had to do was to sign my credit card slip. We walked out to the waiting bus. Once on the bus, I gave her one of my business cards. She wrote her number and address on another. I put the card in my shirt pocket.

The ride to the airport was unusually quick as we chatted all the way there. We had a surprisingly large amount of things in common. When we got to the airport, she laid a lip lock on me that I can still taste. It was too bad that there were so many people at the airport and my plane was about to leave or we would have used the back of the bus.

She walked with me to security. That was as far as she could go without a ticket. She laid another unforgettable lip lock on me. I walked down the ramp and turned to see her standing there with her armless shoulder almost reflecting sunlight.

The trip home was uneventful. We stopped in Phoenix to clear customs. When I got home, it had warmed up to twenty-below, and I was glad that I had stowed my heavy parka in a locker at the airport. My apartment was cold and empty when I got there. I couldn’t help thinking about the lovely one-armed Ann and how great our day and a half together had been. I really longed for a lot more.

My first chore—and my first mistake—was to wash all my clothes. To my horror, I discovered that I had washed the card with her number on it. The card was now a small ball of pulp with an ink stain. I was devastated and kicked myself for being so careless.

I fixed myself a frozen pizza and sat down to watch the news. The local news had storm warnings about an impending blizzard, which would last for about a week. The national news started with the usual war in Europe stuff and then more disclosures on the President’s indiscretions. One of the last news items was the continuing shark attacks in Mexico. The newscaster was describing a viscous shark attack on a one-armed swimmer. The reporter did not give her name or details, other than she was a U.S. citizen on vacation. The report was that the attack was extremely vicious and that the swimmer had lost her other arm.

My first call was to my travel agent and the second call was to my boss telling him I quit. I had forty-five minutes to catch my plane to Mexico.

E N D