Sleep for the night

With the power to change lives, you knew that you needed to sleep this over for a night. As you bury your face into your pillow, you think of the ethics of such a weapon. The right thing to do would be to lock the gun away or outright destroy it. Make it so that no one could use its power for evil. But ethics are relative and you don’t always need them to infringe upon your reality. Sure it would be bad if anyone else gained use of the gun, but surely it wouldn’t be so irrational to use it for your personal and private use. It is after all a piece of science technology that opens doors to new perspectives. With it, you were able to transform your aunt into a skin, and through her you were able to experience sensations that would otherwise have been impossible to your person. Surely, it can’t be immoral to use the weapon to understand others; to see their point of view on the world; to empathize with them on an otherworldly but intimate level.

At least one more test trial. You really didn’t have a chance to test the full potential of the gun when it accidentally turned Anna into skin. Next time, you will have room to use the gun for more experimental and scientific purposes.

When morning arrives, you rise out of bed and step into the shower. You feel its warm water drizzle across your skin. The sense of touch is a universal experience that people can relate over. Anyone can agree what is hot, what is cold, what is soft, and what is hard just by the sense of touch. When you finish and open up the shower door, the steam rolls over you and fogs the mirror on the other side. You wipe away the condensation and take one more look at your face. Conventionally attractive if relatively average. You rub dry your hair and even shake your head to get out the more hidden droplets. The hair looks rightfully messy and unkempt but a bit of combing should resolve that. After touching up your hair and brushing your teeth, you walk out the bathroom and return to your room. You walk to the desk drawer that hides the gun from out of view. You hold it in your hand, feeling its cold and engraved, metallic texture; your morning routine was just an excuse to procrastinate. The shiny chrome sheen reflects your image, but the weapon’s rounder shape distorts your reflection into an uglier and strange appearance.

A choice needs to be made.