Jon entered quietly, and indeed all he received from Mr. Halloran was the typical glare, and he reached his usual desk near the back before the bell rang. Mr. Halloran mumbled his greeting to the class, then preceded to pass out the test.
Jon sighed as he looked over the sizable packet. Halloran always made the longest tests. Might as well get started, Jon figured, he needed as much time as he could get if he wanted to get this done.
Signing his name at the top felt a little odd for Jon. He couldn't say why, but the act of writing like that just seemed... off. His handwriting seemed sloppier as well. As he progressed through the test, Jon found himself finding more and more difficulty. It wasn't the math itself that troubled him, but his handwriting was growing worse and worse, until even he couldn't read the numbers. The pencil felt awkward in his hand...
Struck by a sudden thought, Jon switched the pencil from his right hand to his left. Immediately the utensil felt more natural in his left than it had been in his right. Jotting down a quick notation, Jon found that his left hand now possessed all the dexterity his right had lost. In fact, he found himself writing faster and neater than ever. Erasing the scrawls from before, Jon rewrote his answers using his left hand. By the time he had reached where he was before, Jon had completely forgotten the episode, as well as any memory of being right handed at all.
Jon's progress expedited from there. Halloran usually started with the easy questions and increased in difficulty throughout the test, but Jon found each question even simpler than the one before it. Strangely, however, Jon found small hairs falling onto his paper in strange quantities. He irritably brushed the hair away, but more soon replaced it, only for Jon to brush it off again. This cycle ended after a minute or so, and Jon was glad to be rid of the distraction, paying no mind to where it might have come from or why his arms were now smooth, barren of any sort of hair.
In between problems, Jon found himself absently biting at his nails, a practice that seemed entirely normal to him despite having only acquiring it a few moments before. While his nails seemed none to worse by this new mannerism, Jon's teeth seemed to change a little every time they bit down on a fingernail. Jon had overall good oral hygiene, but his teeth were hardly the perfect smile. They were a little discolored, a little crooked, and possessed a mild overbite. Now, however, his teeth seemed to straighten themselves, their proportions shifting to a more pleasing standard, and they brightened to an almost unnatural white. Soon Jon possessed a set of teeth fit for a dentistry commercial, though they seemed a little small for the rest of his mouth.
Jon glanced up at the clock. The period was halfway over. Should be plenty of time to finish the test...
