It is so good to have legs. It really is. Dr. Greenman Smythe is a genius. A miracle man. The plastic god, they call him. The angel of Los Angeles.
When I lived in the sea, it was easy. We had only to swim, my sisters and I. To sleep, in the coral holes of the sea. Easy. Too easy. I needed something.
When I saw the women, with their shell necklaces and long legs, when I saw them browning on the sand … I knew what I needed.
It has been a year, now, since I left the sea. My transformation drew little notice. For my neighbours grow younger each year. Their faces change. It is common, in this city, for a woman, in time, to become her own daughter. It is the dream of so many. Women, like me, in a dreaming city.
When I lie by the sea, among the other women, with my shell necklace, when I lie there, browning my skin, I sometimes see them. My sisters. Lifting their heads out of the sea. Calling me, with their ocean voices. Their voices like the sea.
But I will not step in the water. It will never touch my skin.
I am happy, now. Having legs.