Kammi by Streeper Clyne

Kammi dragged her torso across the marble-tiled floor towards her legs in the pantyhose aisle as a distant clock struck six a.m. Her plastic arms, articulating at the shoulders, clacked out the methodical rhythm of her agonising journey. Tonight, she’d end the relentless pain, the ghosts of missing limbs she’d suffered since those clerks dismembered her, callously distributing parts to various displays throughout Havers Department Store.

With her legs reattached, she stood. “They need to understand.” Twisting her hips in a spasming gait, she lurched past a row of bespectacled, faceless heads towards the housewares department where gleaming cleavers awaited.