Tag: "transgender"

EP584: Your Body, By Default

AUTHOR: Alexis Hunter

NARRATOR: Alex Acks

HOST: Divya Breed

about the author…

Alexis A. Hunter is a speculative short story writer in possession of a superbly shaped skull. When she’s not writing, she can usually be found cursing too much on Twitter or taking too many pictures of her daughter. Her stories have appeared in magazines such as Fireside Fiction, Shimmer, and Apex, among others. To learn more, visit www.alexisahunter.com — or if you aren’t afraid of a few (hundred) f-bombs, follow her on Twitter (@alexisahunter).

about the narrator…

Alex is a writer, geologist, and sharp-dressed sir. They have had short stories in Strange HorizonsLightspeedDaily Science FictionShimmer, and more. They live in Denver (where they bicycle, drink tea, and twirl their ever-so-dapper mustache) with their two furry little bastards cats.


Your Body, By Default

By Alexis Hunter

They brought you back because they want something from you. Maybe one day they will bring people back because they can or because it’s the right thing to do — but for now there’s you and there’s them and there’s the unspoken obligations that lie between you both.

#

The IED blew your body into pieces: bone and brain and blood, sprayed in the sand with the twisted shell of your tank.

Maybe you weren’t always happy with your body; maybe your breasts were smaller than you would have liked and your toes reminded you of tree roots and there was that one mole right in the middle of your back that you always managed to catch with the hook of your bra; but it was your body. Your history was written in scars and tattoos. And you knew it, inside and out.

You made it yours over the years — the shaved sides of your head accenting the bright shock of magenta hair spilling over the top, the solid black contact lenses that made pupil and iris indistinguishable, the ornate scrolling ink that wrapped your ribcage.

This hunk of flesh you now inhabit is foreign. It is devoid of scar and ink and memory. It bulges or dips in all the wrong places. What it is is wrong, just as what it isn’t is wrong. It’s ten kinds of not you and you’re helpless under this skin.