Cenzano's was a dive with good, cheap bar food; the soldier's name was Carlos Quintana. Mona discovered she didn't like Corona very much and moved straight to tequila. Carlos had lost his left arm, so he was her mirror image; and she was a little surprised, when they made love that night, that she did not feel any sort of electricity when his stump touched hers. He was not the first man she'd had since she lost her arm, but he was the first amputee, and their mirror symmetry made the act lopsided; her right breast felt crushed, afterward, from his leaning on it. But he was athletic and inventive, and he laughed at his mistakes.

"Do you know anyone who could make us a mirrorbox?" Mona asked, panting a little bit, after they'd finished.

"Is that what this was all about?" asked Carlos, grinning. "Funny way of asking."

"Maybe I should ask again," said Mona.

"Definitely. But give me a minute."

"I know the therapy is supposed to get rid of the phantom arm eventually. But I hate being at the mercy of the fucking thing. I want to get rid of it as fast as possible."

"Mona," said Carlos, "I just moved back here. I'm trying to find a job, trying to make this place livable, trying to get used to normal life. Give it some time."

"All right. Just let me know when you want me to ask you again," Mona said, and pillowed her head on his shoulder.

"Let me show you something," said Carlos after a few minutes.

"OK."

"Lie back."

Mona lay back. Carlos began kissing her, moving up and down the right side of her face. Mona tried not to giggle, but gave up. "What are you trying to show me?"

"Just pay attention," he said, muffled, and continued exploring.

Mona felt his lips on her fingers. The gone fingers. She froze up, wide-eyed.

"You feel it?" asked Carlos. Mona felt his lips form a smile. She felt it both on her cheekbone and on her gone hand.

"How the hell?"

"I learned it in physical therapy."

"I thought they had don't ask, don't tell."

Carlos bit her; again she felt it on her gone arm. "Beaker and I are good friends, but not that good. He just showed me how to do it. The special treatment is for you."

"But how?"

"It's the way your brain's built. The part that feels things on your face is near the part that feels things on your forearm. So when you lose the forearm, the face part starts taking over the forearm part. When you feel something on that part of your face, sometimes you also feel it in your forearm."

"Get off. Face me."

He did. Mona ran the backs of her fingers across his left cheek. "Tell me when you feel my fingers on yours."

"There," he said. Her forefinger was on his cheekbone, her pinky near the corner of his mouth. "Let me find yours."

"There," she said when he did.

They lay still, touching one another's faces, for a long time.