Fence

‘I think you’d better get out. Here, let me help you.’ She reached in and offered him her hand. 

He took it and uncoiled himself with an effort. Kim shuddered, wondering how long he’d been stuck in that position. 

When he straightened up, she saw a young man, almost the same height as her Joe, but thirty years younger. He stood, compliant, waiting for her next instruction. 

‘Out you come,’ she said and gestured for him to step out of the box. 

With tremendous grace and dignity, the man got out of the box and stood, feet together, hands clasped loosely in front. His eyes never left her face. She knew all about the clones that were grown for spare part surgery but this was the closest she’d ever been to one. He was very real, he breathed in and out, his eyes locked on her face. He could move of his own volition, but only when she asked him to, she realised. Could he talk? And what about the other parts of him? There was a booklet at the bottom of the box, presumably with instructions on what to do with the bits she didn’t need. She might have been on the fence about spare part surgery before, but faced with the reality, she knew she couldn’t do it.