The problem with Doctor Gilmore's challenge, David reflected as he walked downstairs to meet his family for breakfast, was that there was no way to know whether they had made the right choice or not. No way, that was, unless Gilmore himself decided to reveal to them the truth. For all David knew, the whole experience was over, behind them, something to fade slowly into memory. Then again, it could still be going on, all without anyone knowing.
David paused at the bottom of the stairs to adjust the spaghetti straps on his short red dress. So far he was enjoying the way it felt on his body, but his memory hadn't returned, informing him whether the clothes he was wearing were his or not. Maybe they never would. David had hoped that the slight resistance he had shown to the doctor's manipulation in the past would help him, but so far it hadn't given him any advantage at all. Just like everybody in town, David suspected, he had made the logical choice as to what to wear, then the second closet had faded away, leaving only what he had picked.
There had been no sense of regret, no uneasiness. His choice was his choice. It made the most sense, after all. Sure, the sandal strapped heels he wore were a little uncomfortable, but he felt so natural moving around in them that they had to have been the right decision.
David entered the kitchen and, as usual, he was the last to arrive. Staring at his family, he realized that his memory lapse extended not only to him, but to everybody he'd ever met. He couldn't remember anyone in his family wearing any particular clothes prior to that moment. It didn't bother him, though. David glanced as his mother, wearing a white 'wife-beater' shirt, a pair of boxer shorts, and flip flops, and could see why she had chosen it. The same went for his father, reading the paper while clad in a pencil skirt, tight blouse, nylons and high heels. Andy, two, in his French maid outfit, was nothing out of the ordinary. All their clothes, while not reinforced by memory, were perfectly logical decisions.
Sitting at his regular place at the table, David began crossed his legs at the knee and began to eat the eggs that had been waiting for him. He took small bites, being careful not to overindulge. His dress was tight, and he didn't want to ruin his figure and have to purchase a whole new wardrobe. With the amount of clothes he owned, it would take a fortune to replace everything.
Sipping on orange juice, David wondered why Doctor Gilmore hadn't informed them of what had occurred. He seemed to like to gloat in the past; was something wrong? Had something bad happened at the lab that was preventing Gilmore from checking in with everybody? David was just about to bring up the subject with his family when...
"Well, it took you long enough to decide," Doctor Gilmore's voice piped in, "Seems like we have some late sleepers in your town!"
Andy groaned, obviously not excited to be hearing from the mad scientist.
"Okay, since you're all so excited to hear the results of our little experiment, here they are. I'm pleased to announce that..."
