I slammed him back against the wall with my left forearm.

The cut was about four inches long, straight down his left forearm.

He calls a similar track on the inside of his left forearm the D train.

He turned his left forearm for them all to see.

He still clutched the left forearm with his other hand, and now between the fingers.

He smiled beautifully, then shot me through the left forearm.

Blood still marked a new cut on his left forearm.

The two arms cross at the wrists, the left forearm on top of the right one.

Then she turned up her left forearm, showing him another one.