The Cellblock

As I was lead through the cellblocks, I still wasn’t sure what my crime was. No one had ever told me. It wasn’t long before I noticed that it wasn’t exactly a normal prison. Almost all of the prisoners seemed to be women. They were wearing the latest fashions, putting on makeup, and mostly acting like stereotypical normal women, if not for the cells they were within. As I was brought further in, things got bleaker. There were more men; the women seemed more butch. A few sneered at me.

As the guard sifted through his keys, we paused in front of a padded cell with a glass door. The woman inside was wearing handcuffs, and she took note of me immediately.

“No matter what they do,” She warned, “Remember yourself. It’s why I’m in this cage, and in this section. Because I refuse to forget. I remember my wife and my children. I remember being a guy like you. I haven’t lost my mind like the others you’ve seen, despite this body.”

Her attitude quickly snapped as she turned to the guard. “LET ME OUT HERE, YOU F*CKING BASTARD! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO MY BODY; I JUST WANT OUT!”

The guard smiled and turned to me, “Your neighbor is one of those ones who never shuts up. The more she resists, the longer she’ll stay. Maybe that’s a good lesson for you.”

I nodded and sat down in my cell as the guard locked the door behind me. After the guard left, the woman in the padded cell spoke again, “He’s not wrong. If you comply, you’ll be out in no time. But at what cost? They’ll turn you into someone you literally no longer recognize, a perfect, pretty woman like the rest of those people out there. It’s a choice, but ask yourself if it’s worth it. Do you want to be a woman and forget who you really are?”

I Don't Need a Mirror

“And if you look in this mirror, you can see how you’ve been transformed into an exact copy of the woman you see on the screen,” Asher explained.

“I don’t need a mirror! I can tell you transformed me into a chick! But how the hell did you make me into a chick!?” Gustav demanded to know.

“Remember that drink I offered when you first arrived? It contained AI nanobots that allowed me to rewrite your DNA in any way I wished.”

“Ok, great, fantastic.” Gustav said sarcastically. “Now use them to change me back to normal.”

“They need to recharge, my friend. You’ll be spending the night with that wonderful body.”

Gustav rolled his eyes. Asher had done weird things in the past, but this? This might break their friendship for good; though Gustav wasn’t going to say that until he was back to his original body...

Reflect

“Linjin! Come on! You’ve been staring at yourself in that mirror for 20 minutes now!” The Chinese woman woman standing behind Leo exclaimed. He could see her smiling face off to the side when he glanced over, but he was more interested in his own reflection.

Because it wasn’t his own reflection.

Instead of the rural country white boy he was used to seeing, he saw a beautiful Asian woman. When he looked down, he was clearly wearing her clothing -- despite seemingly still having a very male body when looking down. It also seemed that no matter how he saw himself, the entire world was reacting as if he appeared how he did in the mirror, as this Asian woman named Linjin. He even seemed to have her friends and family now; he was living her life.

“Come on, Qingjin, your sister can’t help but be a narcissist!” This time it was the Asian man off the side of his other shoulder speaking, “It’s just who she is. I mean, who wears a qipao to a carnival? Surely, you must have expected and planned for her to spend hours at the Hall of Mirrors?”

“Ignore my boyfriend, Sis. He’s just jealous because I’m still living with you while he saves up for a ring to put on my finger! But, come on, let’s go have some more fun!”

Now knowing what else to do, Leo finally broke his gaze and decided to explore the rest of the carnival with this woman -- who was supposedly his sister -- and her boyfriend. It could be an interesting life.

Stand Up

Kameer had never found much luck when trying to pursue a career as a stand up comic. He’d do observational stuff about being a Muslin in America that just never seemed to land with audiences. He would tell his friends that he just needed to find his niche; though they often told him that he just wasn’t funny. The criticism had mostly gotten to him, and he only ever performed once every six months or so.

And then the Great Shift happened.

He decided to do a set just for a sense of normalcy. It was a sparsely attended show opening for a friend’s indie rock band. And he started off with his usual jokes; they still weren’t going over well. He paused with a realization.

“Well, I guess telling those with this f*ckin’ face just makes me a f*ckin‘ racist, doesn’t it? Sh*t! I shifted myself into white girl privilege.” He blurted out.

And the response was something he hadn’t heard from the stage in a very long time: Laughter.

He began to rant about the Great Shift, becoming a woman, being a different race. People could relate; it was actually funny.

As he joked about wanting to speak to the manager of the bar for only getting three drink tickets when the men performing got four. He even stumbled onto a new stage name for himself: Karen Abdul-Jabbar.It seems he found his niche.

On Site

I almost always arrived early to the construction site; despite this, a few guys would still sometimes beat me there and get started. It was certainly a surprise one morning to see a woman I didn’t recognize moving some bricks around. I was surprised her frail arms could lift the things, and she seemed to be much stronger than she appeared. Yet I still needed her to clear out; I thought she wasn’t supposed to be there.

I shouted in her direction, and she safely put the brick she was carrying back on the pile before walking over.

“Yo, what up, boss?” She said with a deep voice I instantly recognized.

“Roscoe?” I asked in disbelief.

He nodded, “Weird story. I guess there was some sort of crazy witch. There was this weird body swapping spell she did, and some sort of movie shooting nearby. The cops are still after her. They said they’ll call when they know something, but that we should clear the area. And despite what I look like, the magic doesn’t seem to have affected things like my strength or my voice.”

“But you’re running around in open toe heels an a thin dress!”

“I was wearing my work clothes at the time along with my boots, so they have the same affect. Seriously, shoot a nailgun at my toe; I’ll be fine! The only thing that is different, besides how I look, is that I need to sit down to pee. Which reminds me, we seriously need to talk about the state of the Porta-Potties, John!”