Skin Folk by Nalo Hopkinson Read Free Book Online

to Artho, though. And she knew what a bonehead she’d just been, he could tell. Right? Right. He
     swallowed, didn’t say anything. Let Tamara believe he hadn’t guessed what she’d almost said.
    “Anyway,” Tamara continued, “she’s gone now. Muhammed’s gone back to his desk. You feeling any better?”
    “Yeah, thanks.”
    “Well.” She stood there, still looking sheepish and uncomfortable. “Um, I’m going home now.”
    “See ya.” He watched her put on her coat. He waved good-bye to her. Then he uploaded the site, ignoring the odd clicking feeling
     in his mouse arm. God, it made him feel clumsy. He’d have to get that checked out. Probably some kind of overuse thing. He
     clicked the file closed. Behind it was the autofellatio man. Hadn’t he uploaded that one too? He went to do it, but the hand
     with the mouse slipped, and he ended up instead selecting the “changing oneself always” symbol he’d put on the man’s arm as
     a joke. Yeah, better take that off. Just in case Charlie did figure out he’d done it. Didn’t want to get his ass in trouble.
     He dragged the nkyin kyin symbol off the guy’s arm, and what the fuck, it came all the way
off
the screen, skidded right across the keyboard, and came to rest on his thigh. Alarmed, he released the mouse. The symbol
     melted through the cloth into the meat of his leg. “Shit!” It tingled for a second, then faded.
    Ah, fuck. Bloody weird day. He reached for the mouse again. When he clicked on it this time, something subtle changed about
     the autofellatio man. Artho stared hard at the image on the screen to try to see what was different. Yes, the nkyin kyin was
     back on the man’s shoulder. And he was a little pudgier. And were those crow’s-feet around his eyes? A hint of a smile around
     his wide-stretched mouth?
    Whatever. Artho shrugged and uploaded the damned thing, ignoring the weird feeling in his arm every time he clicked the mouse.
    Enough. Time to go home. Artho grabbed his coat, locked up, and left.
    By the time the elevator had made it to the first floor, Artho was feeling really odd. Not sick, really, just faintly unreal,
     like when he smoked a joint too fast, or took sinus meds. He sighed, hoping he wasn’t going to spend the weekend with the
     flu. At least it’d give him an excuse to skip going to his mum’s. He put his hand on the door of the building to let himself
     out.
Click.
When he took the hand away, the nkyin kyin symbol was on it. He peered at the handle. Had it always been ornate worked brass?
     In the form of some kind of bug? No, now it looked like… a skeleton? Artho touched the handle again, double-clicked. And the
     handle was a plain aluminum strip once more.
    Artho’s skin began to prickle. Not with fear, not with fever. With hope. He rushed outside the building, put his palm against
     its dull brick exterior. Clicked. The walls flushed red, then purple. Fluted columns started to sprout beside the doors, which
     were quickly changing from sliding glass and steel to intricately joined oak. With big knockers. Artho giggled. Pretty damned
     tarty. He wondered if that had been the builder’s original dream for the building. He double-clicked. The building reverted
     to its usual form.
    “You’re getting it.”
    When he turned towards the voice, Artho wasn’t at all surprised to see the little girl. She was crouched down beside the steps,
     jam-jar glasses winking at him. Her hair knotted and unknotted itself.
    “Can I change everything?” Artho asked.
    “Course not, silly! Changing things isn’t
your
job. You’re not changing things; that’ll happen anyway. You’re just helping them peel off the fake skins.”
    “How’s that work?”
    “You’ll just have to try it and see.” She stuck her tongue out at him too. It was too pointy, and more lavender than pink.
     She leapt, stuck to the side of the building, started climbing smoothly up it, with two legs, with four. No wonder her behind
     had