876976880 Circuit Malfunction

I was alone on the farm, in the farmhouse that is. Mum and Dad were out, they had gone to a young farmers meeting in the village...

876976880 Circuit Malfunction

By Susan Brown

So there I was, looking really pretty, well, I thought I was anyway.

Maybe I need contact lenses or (gulp) glasses?

I was alone on the farm, in the farmhouse that is. Mum and Dad were out, they had gone to a young farmers meeting in the village. Weird actually as they weren’t that young, but still it was great for me. Half the people who went there looked geriatric to me.

I mustn’t be ageist, that’s not cool.

Back to Darling Mummy and Daddy.

They’ll probably come back sloshed, inebriated, drunk, worse for wear or whatever you want to call it. The fact that Dad actually drives a car in that condition always makes me wonder where the police are when you need them.

Living in a remote area means that you can get away with things like being drunk behind a wheel…

Anyway, enough of that, I hate to sound whiny.

Living where we are, with parents not always around due to work during the day, or down the pub in the evening, meant that I could quite often dress as I liked and as a boy, of course, I liked to dress as a girl. No, don’t laugh. I bet some of you boys out there would like to at least try it out. Come on, admit it.

Anyway, ever since I was knee-high to a grasshopper, I loved to look like a girl. Do I want actually to be a girl? Good question, glad that you asked. Yes, I would, but I’m a coward and I don’t like the idea of some surgeon slicing and dicing me to look like a girl.

You may think that I am a coward with a yellow streak down my back, well yellow is a cool colour in my opinion.

Okay, you might ask why a 14-year-old boy wants to be a girl. Well, don’t ask as I haven’t got a clue. It’s what I am so you are going to have to accept the fact that I am that way inclined. It just feels right to pretend to be a girl and dream about having real breasts rather than the false ones that I was actually wearing and that the silicone breasts were far too big for me.

I looked in the mirror. What clothes had I got on, you ask? You didn’t ask? Tough, I’m going to tell you anyway.

Well, I’m one of those people who go into charity shops looking for bargains. I go to school in town and like many rundown towns, it looks like every other shop is a betting shop, a takeaway or what interests me most, a charity shop.

How do I get away with going into a charity shop to buy girlie things? You know, a strong strapping, 5-foot-1-inch boy going in and getting gooey-eyed over a dress, skirt or blouse?

Well, for a start, I’m not strapping or strong, but I am 5-foot 1 in my cotton socks. I’m a thin weakling who has to ask his mum to open screw-top bottles. Sad but true. I’m so thin, I have to avoid any drains as I might slip through one of the slats. If I stand sideways, you might miss me. At school games, like football (soccer), I was the last one to be picked for the team. I normally have the very important job of holding the coats or pretending to be a goalpost.

What I’m trying to say is that I’m not the manliest of men or the boyiest of boys either, come to that.

Not that I wanted to be a boy, of course, but, in this cruel world, you don’t always get what you want.

As I said before, I sometimes get all brave and go into those charity shops and buy girls' clothes. I used to pretend that they were presents for my non-existing sister. I wonder how many times they hear that excuse?

Now, I don’t bother making excuses. If they did have any problems about who or what I am, they should mind their own business and I’ll mind mine.

Sorry, sounded a bit prickly there.

To be honest, though, I doubt that they ever noticed or even cared who or what I was. I looked a bit effeminate and have often been mistaken for being a girl.

I didn’t mind that at all.

Despite all the negative remarks about getting it cut by parental units, I have longish, dirty blond hair. I won’t repeat the derogatory things that they have often said about my appearance, but, it was like water off a ducks back to me and I didn’t care - much.

Even my Granny, who is centuries old and shortsighted, has, at times, thought that I was a girl, but she does get a bit mixed up and she’s forever losing her glasses. She once made cocoa using gravy granules… enough said.

Anyway, I’ve gone off the point, I often do that.

I’m wearing a dress, it’s a nice dress, a bit long and old for me, but beggars can’t be choosers. It’s a silky satin black cocktail dress that goes down just below my knees, Ideally, in my opinion as a fashion expert (not), the hem should be above the knee. The skirt had a false underskirt thingy sown into it and that makes it look like a petticoat.

Clever stuff!

I imagined going to a cocktail party in it, with a handsome man. I have my arm in his. He’s a bit like a very young James Bond, with muscles in all the right places; without the non-PC attitude, cruel streak and a nasty habit of killing people, even if they are the baddies.

Did I say that I was gay, homosexual or one of the other labels I hate? I can’t help it, it’s who I am.

Anyway, there I was, standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, admiring myself and wondering whether I should raid Mum’s makeup again. The problem with that is she might notice that someone (me!) had used some and if they came back early, how would I explain my face? Awkward.

‘Oh Mum, I was just playing girlie dress up; it’s just a phase!’

‘Oh Dad, I’m as manly as you, can I borrow your shaver and have a cold beer?’

I had never said anything about wanting to be a girl to my parents. They wouldn’t understand. Mind you, I don’t understand. I mean it’s got to be strange wanting to be something that I’m not. I have a penis and scrotum, or as Steven Hodge, my current bully says, meat and two vegs! So, it stands to reason that I’m a boy, right?

Wrong, I’m a girl in my head and that’s what matters to me and I just love it when I’m mistaken for someone of the fairer sex.

I wish my parents felt the same about people like me.

We can’t help who and what we are, can we?

Mum and Dad didn’t like anyone or anything being what they considered to be out of the ordinary and I was as out of the ordinary that you can get.

They hated anything remotely LGBTQQIP2SAA (look it up) and the thought of me being any of those initials would send them into a paroxysm rage.

They hated anyone who was different to what they called “normal”.

To be honest, Mum and Dad were not very nice people and if it was legally possible I would probably divorce them.

They say that you can’t choose your family. Got it in one.

Anyway, enough of that, I will get back on point. I do go off on a tangent, don’t I?

One day soon, I feared that I would probably start sprouting hair in highly unnecessary places, burp after meals, break wind loudly, scratch my bum at inappropriate times and get an annoyingly deep, manly voice.

Things that, quite frankly, I didn’t fancy in any way shape or form.

Anyway, back to the “incident”.

You didn’t know there was an incident?

Well, you do now, so sit down, have a (soft) drink and read on.

Being winter, it got dark early, not that it was that early, about 9 o’clock. So, it was quite dark outside, which was handy, as I would see the headlights of my parent's car a long way away down the drive leading up to our farmhouse. That would give me time to get up to my room, bolt the door and get changed back to boring John.

I preferred being Joanna, my girlie name.

I sighed and went downstairs, loving the feeling of my dress against my sheer nylon-clad legs.

Rosie the old cat was in her basket, fast asleep with her tongue sticking out slightly.

I had a frozen pizza for my late dinner and it was soon grilling away, making nice smells that made me drool slightly. It was soon cooked and I sat down to eat it in my cocktail dress. I had to be careful as I didn’t want to make it dirty, so I got up again and put on Mum’s frilly apron, not my style but needs must.

I sat down again and looked at my nails and wished that had some nice red varnish on them. Once again an impossibility due to my circumstances.

I sighed. I did that a lot.

I was just raising the first slice of pizza to my lips, salivating with anticipation when I heard a sort of rumbling sound. I had a glass of coke on the side and it was vibrating, making the bubbles rise faster than normal.

The lights flickered a few times.

Rosie stood up suddenly hissed and then flew out of the door via the cat flap.

‘Strange.’ I thought.

I went to the window and looked outside. The road was empty and there were no telltale signs of the parental car coming up the drive.

But there was a strange pulsating glow out there.

I took off the frilly apron, there was no way that I was going outside in that.

I then went out of the kitchen to have a look around. Yes, there was that pulsating glow and it was coming from behind the house.

Intrigued, I went to have a look, even though it was winter and it was cold and I was wearing a thin cocktail dress and little else apart from my fluffy pink slippers over my tights.

I must have been mad.

The glow was coming from beyond the trees, we had a copse over by the edge of one of the fields.

There was an increase in the rumbling, throbbing sound and the light became brighter and brighter.

I had the fright of my life when, all of a sudden, something large rose from behind the trees. It was so large that it seemed to fill the sky, it was sort of cylindrical shaped, but it was big, very big. I was almost blinded by the throbbing, pulsating light that was coming from it.

The noise got louder as it shot over me and came to a standstill. I was nearly peeing in my panties as I looked up. A huge door opened and flooded the edge of the field where I was standing. The noise was incredible and it created a wind that lifted the skirt of my dress like that Marylin Munroe photo where she was standing over that grate thingie.

All of a sudden, the light grew in intensity and I was blinded and I felt as if I was being sucked up into a hoover. I felt terrific pain everywhere.

Then, everything went black.

I opened my eyes. I felt a bit groggy and discombobulated.

I was in a room. A white room. My eyes swivelled about a bit as, strangely, I couldn’t move my head.

With the limited vision that I had, I assumed it was a hospital. It was completely silent apart from a very gentle hum coming from somewhere beneath me. If this was a hospital. It must be private as everything was deathly quiet.

NHS hospitals are not noted for being quiet, tranquil places. I didn’t even hear the noise of bedpans being dropped on the floor.

Suddenly I realised something as I finally came back to full consciousness.

I couldn’t move.

That was frightening.

I was flat on my back and I couldn’t feel anything below my neck.

That was even more frightening.

‘Hello.’ I said, ‘is there anyone there?’

My voice sounded croaky.

‘You are awake,’ said a voice coming from somewhere. I had no idea if it was a male or female voice. It was sort of gender-neutral if you know what I mean.


‘Do not be alarmed.’

‘Why, should I be?’

‘Yes, no, possibly. Regretfully, I do not understand the vagaries of your language.’

‘Aren’t I in England?’

‘That small, insignificant island on that small planet Clungot or what you call Earth? We wondered if that was it. We have had a malfunction in the 876976880 circuit. We should have turned right, but turned left instead and landed on Clungot. Our engineers are fixing the problem now.’

This all sounded beyond insane.

‘Erm, is this a joke?’

‘Joke, oh, humour. You have strange but amusing terminology and language idiosyncrasies.’

This was getting stranger by the minute. I didn’t feel scared though. Maybe it was something to do with the medications. Or, more likely, this might actually be a dream and I may just wake up and laugh it off.

‘Where am I?’

‘In the recovery module.’

‘What is that?’

‘A module where you recover.’

‘From what?’

‘Your condition.’

‘What condition?’

This was like taking blood out of a stone. If this was a dream, it didn’t matter and if this was real, well I didn’t really want to go there.

‘There was an additional malfunction to the original one.’

‘What sort of malfunction,’

‘In simple terms, when the 876976880 circuit malfunctioned there was what you might call a chain reaction that affected certain other systems. A system that we use for recovering personnel from planets failed to work properly. The system is called the teleportation machine…’

‘Like the one in Star Trek?’

‘What is this Star Trek?’

‘Never mind that. What went wrong?’

‘One of our crew was on the ground getting samples of what are called turnips, I believe. Whenever we encounter a planet, we take a random sample of the vegetation. The crew member was to be transported back to the ship, but for some reason that our engineers have not been able to ascertain, you were transported instead. You will be pleased to note that the problem was rectified and the crew member was returned to us, unharmed together with several turnips.’

‘I’m so pleased.’ I said sarcastically. ‘What about me?’

‘Regrettably, when you were transported to the ship, you were damaged.’

He sounded like I had been in a car crash or something.

‘In what way?’

There was a pause.

‘In what way?’ I repeated.

‘Forgive me, I was consulting with our medical team leader. The doctor has informed me that much of your body was not functioning properly. You were put in stasis and repairs were carried out to our satisfaction. It was difficult, as we had no experience with your body type and we had to trawl through various medical literature from your planet to ascertain the correct procedures to, shall we say, put you back together again.’

‘So, I am ok body-wise?’

‘Yes, nearly.’

‘Why can’t I feel anything below my neck?’

‘Because you are in a special tank that we used to regenerate and cure your body. The treatment will be complete with twelve of your Clungot hours.’

‘That’s Earth hours, at least get the name of our planet right.’

‘Apologies, Earth it is. I have altered our database.’

‘Good, so, how long have I been here?’

‘In your timescale, about six months.’

‘Oh-my-God! What will my parents think?’

‘Parents? Oh yes, you have an amusing way to pair, procreate, socialise and look after your young. We, of course, do not use any of those esoteric, primitive methods, but enough of that. You are concerned about them, your parents?’

‘Of course. They won’t know what’s happened to me. I’m only 14.’

‘That is still young, interesting, our progeny emerge from the pupa state fully formed. Have no fear about that, they will not realise that you have been away.’


‘We can travel in time and space.’

‘Like Doctor Who?’


‘Doctor Who on the television.’

There was a pause.

‘I see what you mean. A very amusing fiction, but totally unrealistic. However, I will have to find out what a police box is. No, it is clear that our technology is far superior to yours and beyond your wildest imagination.’

‘Is that why you turned right instead of left and tore my body apart?’

‘That is immaterial. Do you have any more questions?’

‘When can I get out of this tank thing?’

‘Twelve of your hours, as I have already intimated.’

‘Then can I go home?’


‘Without my parents realising that I have been away?’


‘Why can’t I see you?’

‘We do not want to shock you. We have vastly different physiology to you. Anyway, if you do not see us, you cannot describe us. What I can say is that we have a few more arms, legs, eyes, ears and other orifices than you.’


‘What is this “yuk”?’

‘Erm, a term of endearment.’

‘Is there anything else you need to know?’

‘If you are not from my planet, how can you talk in English?’

‘We do of course use a universal translator when necessary, but as soon as we ascertained our precise location, we used our extensive databank for information regarding your small planet.

According to our records, we have been studying yours and other planets in this quadrant for several millenniums. Therefore, even though we arrived here by accident, we do know of your planet via extensive studies of your primitive culture. Your antediluvian languages were easy to learn, especially since you started communication through such means as what you call radio, television and mobile telecommunications.’

‘Is that why you sound like Elvis Presley?’

Elvis is Mum’s favourite and I’ve had to sit through more rubbishy films than I really wanted to. Talk about mental cruelty…

There was a slight delay in replying.

‘It was not intentional; however, can you explain what blue suede shoes are?’

I groaned.

Twelve hours is a long time to stare at a featureless ceiling, but thankfully, I was asleep or unconscious if you like, for much of that time.

Gradually, I woke up.

For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Then my eyes came into focus. I was on a bed wearing my cocktail dress. It wasn’t my bed. I was still in that room, you know, the boring white one. I stretched my arms and yawned.

I wasn’t in that tank thing anymore, I could move. And I could feel everything. Although the everything that I was feeling was, to say the least, a bit strange.

I sat up and my head swam a bit.

I felt my hair, it was longer, much longer and it seemed more blondiefied than my previous dirty blond colour.

My chest felt strangely heavy under my bra.

With slightly shaky hands, I tenderly felt my chest and I didn’t feel the dead, lifeless silicone things that I had previously put in my bra. It all felt so real!

I hesitantly lifted my skirt and had a bit of a feel. It all looked and felt strangely empty. With dread, I put my hand inside my panties and rummaged around. As I suspected, I had no penis and scrotum, instead, there was a slit, a slightly moist slit at that!

I may not be a doctor, but the signs were clear. They had changed me into a girl!

Of course, I fainted.

When I awoke, I was on the bed, lying down. I had a hesitant feel about down below again and that confirmed what I already knew, it wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare. How could explain to my parents that I had metamort... metamaph… changed into a girl?

Yes, I wanted to be a girl, no question of that, but this was extreme and totally unbelievable. They would say that I had taken illegal drugs or done unspeakable things to my body. They were the original homophobes and didn’t like anyone they considered to be deviant. They didn’t even like pantomimes because men dressed up as a woman and vice versa.

I would be chucked out into the night with only the clothes I stood in.

I would be ostracised at school.

Not even my resident bully would want to know me.

I would be taken into custody for taking banned drugs and having illegal surgery.

I would be put into a home for delinquent children.

After a few more panicky moments, I took a few deep breaths, tried to calm down and then decided to speak to that disembodied voice.

‘Hello?’ I said hesitantly.

‘You are awake, good, we will prepare to return you to your time and place now…’

‘Wait, what have you done to me?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m not the same.’

‘True, we have improved your bodily functions to an optimum level. However, due to the crude design of your body, you will probably, if you do not have any accidents, of course, only live to be about 200 of your Earth years…’

‘200! Erm right, but one thing, I was a boy, not a girl.’

‘A boy?’

‘Yes, I had a penis and everything boy-like.’

‘Please wait.’

I waited and waited. I thought that I had been forgotten.

There was a clicking noise.

‘I have spoken to your doctors. There appears to have been a slight error.’


‘The condition of your body did not indicate your sexual orientation and due to the malfunction in the 876976880 circuit, we were unable to do tests that we should have done to ascertain your true gender. It was assumed that as you were wearing what is considered to be female clothing known as a cocktail dress, you were, in actuality female, according to information extracted from something archaic, known as the internet and Wikipedia. We apologise for that.

‘We are of course hermaphrodites and thankfully do not have the same problems as you. We dress as we feel and do not have any gender affirmation forms of dress.’

‘Erm, right. So, can you change me back? There is no way my parents will believe me if I tell them what has happened.’

‘Unfortunately, your body would not be able to withstand any other alteration without malfunctioning.’

‘Like the malfunction in the 876976880 circuit?’

‘Effectively, yes. Several systems on our ship were affected, but you will be pleased to note everything is now functioning correctly.’

‘I’m really happy for you.’

Even to me, I sounded bitter.

‘Is that what you call irony or is it sarcasm, your language is somewhat confusing even to someone with my immense and vastly superior brain?’

‘A bit of both with some derision thrown in.’

Had my brain been transformed as well as other things? My vocabulary seemed a bit bigger. I felt like I had swallowed a dictionary. I might even start to understand what was going on in that film, The Matrix…

‘Hmm, I think that we may have to revisit this planet. It seems unique in many ways, even though you have so many warring factions intent on killing each other for political and or financial gain and also that you are destroying the planet by polluting and heating it to a degree that is not sustainable, even for us.’

We were getting off the important subject – me. So I’m shallow, deal with it.

‘So you definitely can’t change me back?’


‘And I am a girl inside and out?’

‘Affirmative, you are fully functioning.’

‘I can have a baby?’

‘Yes, if you copulate with a male of your species and it is the correct time of the month for your breeding cycle.’

Put like that, it sounded faintly disgusting and animalistic; After all, I wasn’t a cow or a sheep!

‘Whilst we have been conversing, we have now arrived at the time and place that you need to be. Please stand in the middle of the room, cross your arms and close your eyes.’

I went over to the middle of the room and did as I was asked. But I couldn’t just let it go.

‘Aren’t you going to apologise for putting me through all this?’

‘Apologies are not necessary. This was a malfunction of circuit 876976880 and could not have been foreseen, goodbye.’

I felt like I was falling apart again and it was as if I was going down in a high-speed lift, downwards. You know the type, where you leave your stomach several floors above as you hurtle down to possible death.

Suddenly things slowed down and I decelerated gradually and my feet touched the ground very gently.

I opened my eyes.

I immediately looked up. There was what looked like a shooting star up in the sky and I somehow knew that it wasn’t a star.

I shivered. After all, I was only wearing that cocktail dress, scanty underwear and fluffy slippers.

As quickly as I could in the circumstances, I went back to the farmhouse.

Everything was as I had left it. I went over to the pizza; it was still warm. Distracted, I ate a slice of it. This was beyond weird. I drank some Coke; it had gone flat, but that’s Coke for you.

After that, I ran my tongue over my teeth. It felt a bit strange and different. Going into the bathroom, I opened my mouth. I had perfect teeth, gleaming away, all aligned and not slightly crooked as before; and yes, all the teeth were present and correct and there was not one filling in sight.

I raised my skirt above my knee. The small scar that I had on my knee had disappeared.

There had been no mirrors in that soulless white room on the spaceship or whatever it was called.

I needed to see myself as others would.

Looking at myself in the mirror, there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that I was a girl. I used to have a slight Adam's apple, but that was gone, my face looked more feminine and my body, seemed slightly curvier. My real breasts were smallish but firm and down below, I knew that I was definitely a girl.

I had so much wanted to be a girl and now I was one. But, how would my parents deal with this? Would they scream with horror? Would they throw me out and say that I had been taking drugs and had my body altered to this, all in a matter of a few hours?

As I might have mentioned before, my dear parents (not) were homophobic and didn’t like anything or anyone out of the ordinary and that sickened me.

This could all end in tears.

Of course, then I had a cry, as girls do cry, you know.

I looked out of the window and I could see headlights in the distance coming towards the house.

I sighed. I would just have to man up, or is that girl up?

I dried my eyes on a tissue and sat down on a kitchen stool, smoothed down my skirt and awaited my fate.

My heart was beating loudly.

I was shaking.

I was terrified.

The car came up to the house and parked up. The engine turned off and I could hear the slam of car doors.

After a few seconds, the front door opened and I heard the sound of Mum and Dad talking and laughing.

That was unusual, they were normally arguing and shouting at each other, especially after a few drinks.

They walked down the passageway and opened the door.

They were laughing. Dad's face looked slightly red. I think that he had had a few drinks.
I hoped that he wasn’t too violent after drinking!

I closed my eyes and waited for it… I didn’t fancy the sight of my own blood being spilt.

‘Hello Joanna, had a nice evening?’

I had lost the power of speech so I just nodded.


My eyes snapped open and there was Dad, sitting opposite me. Mum was fussing around by the kettle.

Dad looked smarter and cleaner. He had made the effort to look good and not his usual slovenly self, even when going out.

‘Want some cocoa dear?’ Mum asked me.

She too looked nice, with her hair styled nicely and wearing a pretty dress…

‘Erm, yes please.’

‘We had a great time at the young farmer's meeting,’ said Dad, ignoring the fact that his son was sitting there in a cocktail dress, with long hair and looking decidedly girlie.

‘That dress looks nice dear, but it’s a bit big on you,’ said Mum conversationally as she made the drinks, ‘you have the school end-of-term party soon. We’ll have to go into town and see if we can buy you a nice new one.’

Dad groaned.

‘More expense,’ he said, ‘if only we had had a son, they are much cheaper to bring up.’

‘You know that boys can be trouble too Donald,’

‘Yes, but at least boys don’t buy so many clothes and makeup.’

She laughed, but I didn’t.

I looked at him. what was going on here? They were treating me as a girl and they were being disgustingly nice to each other and to me. I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t, I was speechless.

They carried on talking about the people that they had seen at the meeting as if there wasn’t an elephant in the room, the elephant, all be it, a tiny and petite one was me.

‘Did you see Phil and Michael, Donald?’

‘Yes, they make a nice couple. I thought Mike was going out with that Bob,’ answered Dad.


‘No, Bob is now going out with that trans girl, what’s her name, Stephanie.’

‘She’s quite pretty,’ repined Dad conversationally.

‘Mmm. Here you are Jo,’

She passed me my drink.

I was still speechless.

‘So,’ said Dad,’ what have you been up to tonight.’

‘Nothing special,’ I squeaked.

After my drink, I said that I was tired and said goodnight to them.

‘No kiss for your old Dad.’

This was beyond weird!

I went over and reluctantly kissed him on his smooth rather than normal stubbly cheek and did the same for Mum, and then I said goodnight and rushed upstairs before they came to their senses and kicked the life out of me. As you can see, I was still in denial over their acceptance of me and the fact that they didn’t seem to have a homophobic bone in their bodies.

I went into my room and blinked several times.

I was in a girl's bedroom, with lots of pink and pastel colours. There was a dolly on my bed and the whole room screamed girl.

There were a few posters of heartthrobs on the wall and looking at them, I drooled slightly.

There was a dressing table with lots of cosmetics and other girl paraphernalia on it. On the wall over the bed was a photo of a smiling young girl in a pink bathing costume with Mum and Dad on the beach. It took a bit of working out to realise that the girl was me!

I went over to the white closet (it was previously a dirty brown colour) and opened it.

It was full of girls' clothes including dresses, tops, skirts, jumpers and coats. On the base of the closet were a lot of shoes, girls' shoes.

I quietly closed the closet and sat on the bed.

I thought that I must be dreaming and I would wake up soon and all would be back to normal, with Mum and Dad being unpleasant about and to me and having more chips on their shoulders than at McDonald’s. I think that I was mixing metaphors or whatever they’re called a bit there, but you get the meaning.

I yawned. I was very tired. That’s what happens when you are abducted by aliens and have your body torn apart and replaced by a better gender and version. Not helped by the fact that your parents had personality transplants and had turned from Mr and Mrs Hate to Mr and Mrs Love.

I went over to the chest of drawers and opened the one with my pj’s in and then I sighed. No boys' flannel pyjamas, it was all girlie night things like soft nighties and silky pj’s in pastel colours.

I sighed again.

This must be a dream. Reality for me couldn’t be that good.

I picked out a cream shortie PJ set, loving the feel of them, and laid them on the bed. Then I went into the bathroom and did pre-bedtime bathroomy things. On coming back into my bedroom, I stripped and looked at my naked body.

‘Yup.’ I thought smugly, ‘I’m a girl.’

I put on my satin pj’s and they felt wonderful. Then I got into bed and turned the bedside light off.

As I fell asleep, I wondered if I would wake up as a boy who had a strange, unnerving dream or as a girl.

I knew which one I wanted to be and it started with the letter G.

I tossed and turned and snoozed.

I woke up and it was still dark. I checked down below and I was still a girl.

That was nice.

I was thirsty but had forgotten to bring up a glass of water.

I put on my fluffy slippers and the silky dressing gown that was hanging on the back of my bedroom door and then I went downstairs.

I passed Mum and Dad’s room and I could hear Dad’s loud snoring.

‘Nothing new there.’ I thought, smiling.

In the kitchen, I got a glass from the cabinet and went over to the tap and filled it with water and then took a sip of water.

I stopped mid-gulp and as I glanced outside, I frowned.

There was something not quite right.

Leaving the glass on the drainer, I unlocked the door and stepped outside.

Over by the copse was a light, a pulsating light that I thought I recognised.

There was no way that I was going to go anywhere near that light.

I shivered as it was a bit cold out there and I wasn’t exactly dressed for the outdoors.

Looking up, I could see that there were plenty of stars about as it was a nice clear night.

I turned back to go in and I stopped dead, my heart in my mouth. Despite the cold, I felt a trickle of sweat go down my back

Just above the horizon was the moon, it was quite large and full.

However, just above that lovely full moon and to the left of it, was another much smaller moon, glowing in the sky.



Please leave comments if you have time. Oh, and if you can, please do the kudo-thingie... thanks! ~Sue


If you have like this story, you should try

Calling Occupants.....

It's just a click away on: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/9110/calling-occupants

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