A short story by Joshua Criss.
"The forearm is hard white plastic, shaped into a flattened hexagon. The edges have been rounded off. The hand connects with a ball joint, encased in black neoprene. The hand itself is of the same material as the arm, connected with intricate hinges and black hardware. Nothing about it mimics the real thing. Where it connects to my arm, the borders are deeply scalloped. I run my finger along the edges like the coastline of an island."
Presented in PDF e-book format.