I wrote this for an anthology, but gave up half-way. So, this short flash belongs to the “Off-Side” category. I was toying with the idea of skin colors and how if we would change our skins…
I cycled through the racks of neo-skins, my heart pounding. I was unsure if I was going to make the right choice. Oh hell, I think I am going to hyperventilate or something…
At last, my fingers paused and I lifted the neo-skin out from the rack, examining it in the bright light of the store. It was a “light-tone” skin, of the “Caucasoid” range. I stared at the label: “Cream”. I hated it. It sounded like food.
My free hand went down my hips. I didn’t look at the mirror. “Cream”. I skimmed through the other labels. “Tawny”. “Alabaster”. “Ruddy”. “Sandy”. How trite. “Cream”. I should at least look at the appropriate range. I dreaded finding something like “Lemon meringue”.
So was I “Cream”? And would the neo-skin change me as the brochure’d claimed it would?
I showed my tag to the bored-looking saleslady and slipped quietly to the changing room, hating how my calves chafed. Once inside the tight cubicle, I shut the curtain and removed my clothes.
Oh, god. The reflection in the mirror had a permanent frown on her face. The neo-skin draped like a second skin on her naked body.
I inserted one leg after the other, careful not to fall over. The neo-skin felt velvety, smooth, as I tugged it upwards to fit my hips. I felt as if I was being moulded, shaped. For a moment, I stopped. There was no turning back.
The skin slid up my chest, cupping my breasts. Then my transformation was complete. My neck felt tight and I tugged at the collar.
The reflection shook her hair, glowing somewhat under the lighting. She lifted her arms, twirled around. The neo-skin had removed any trace of pubic hair. She was sexless. I was sexless.