I woke up this
morning changed: a metamorphosis had taken place
over night. Id been a male, named George,
but today I touched my penis, expecting it to be
there, but found a vagina had taken its place. My
hands wandered upward and I had breasts. I had
Georges memories (yuk), his cerebellum and
ganglia. I now possessed the organs of my ex-girlfriend.
Georges black and white yin/yang tattoo
hadnt changed. I walked her walk, buttocks
let my fingers touch my new play toy, my clitoris
and had many orgasms. Cindy never had that many
Os with that old George. I let the orgasms
tremble through my body, waves of pleasure
quivering, something I formerly delighted in
doing it the old fashioned way. Georgettes
way proved much better because I enjoyed its
complexity more than Georges two-dimension
I pissed and
dressed. I put on Cindys dress, shirt, sock,
and shoes. Tight fit, those shoes. She had lived
with that anxiety-ridden George, plagued with
slipping into puritanical modes, not wanting sex
with Cindy because he thought it damaged his
intellectual capacities as a community college
English teacher. Cindy was no slouch, either: she
was a part-time assistant to an indie film
She was a full
figured woman. I felt my inguinal region parted
by the thongs and it was a pleasant sensation
walking to the restaurant having my labia and
clitoris rubbing against the friction of her
myself for lunch, a ritual Id done as
George for over a year, eating my usual toasted
bagel with cream cheese and an espresso. She
failed to recognize me without my stubble. She
stared at me, but said nothing.
Her shift over,
surprised at her trust, I drove her to the
community forest and found a secluded place.
have a brother, Georgette?
You know, in fashionable, regal circles my
name is Cunt.
Thats one word women hate. She
sucked another absinthe candy.
If your demeanor is high style, the C-word
means youve got exquisite taste. I read
that on a cultish website.
Your clothes are the same as mine.
Whered you shop?
Was she in on
In our closet.
You stole my clothes. Give them back to me,
have to take them off here. I took my shoe
and sock off.
that? Cindy looked sacred.
Earth and dark; heaven and light. Female-male
forces. She massaged the tat. We
could start all over. It wont be that
We? She looked suspicious. But
her role as a talent scout served her well.
me, remember. She started to leave.
I teach English. I told her where. She
hesitated and said:
should be in our next film.