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I was staring at my clone, marveling at how different he looked from my self-image. He was a living reflection with new independence and he examined me with the same sense of wonder and bewilderment.
My colleagues shared the joy, and I could think of nothing better than to raise my hand and greet him into the world with a handshake. He was taken aback by the motion, but reluctantly accepted it.
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His hand felt rougher than mine. I looked down and what I thought was an imperfection in the process was only a confirmation of its perfection. My hand was an adult hand but with fresh, uncreased skin.
I reeled back and went to pull up my sleeve, but I only now realized I was without clothes. It was cold and I didn't have any hair and my appendix scar was not there because I still had an appendix and I was covered in fluid.
And I looked up and saw pity painted across my face.
The End
This story was first published on Thursday, April 17th, 2014
Author Comments
I wanted to challenge myself to create an emotional story in under 200 words. I wrote "The Experiment" in first-person because I hoped the identity shift of the narrator would thereby resonate more with the reader.
- Marco Giandomenico
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