I then realized my appearance was a bit odd. My right leg was no longer with me. It had caught somewhere in the top of the cockpit as I tried to leave my Spitfire.
That's what a good crime novelist - any good novelist - should do with you: play with your perceptions while showing you everything in plain sight.
Plastic surgery can't make you younger or more beautiful, because beauty is in your eyes, isn't it? It's in your soul; you can't strap it on.
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