Karyn had just replaced the ladder back in its place in the garage when it happened. The world blinked. Her body blinked. Out in the driveway, a blue Ram 1500 with a bald eagle on its hood simply disappeared.
And when Karyn looked down at herself, she was indeed herself once more.
Well, mostly. She still had bigger boobs than she was comfortable with. The hair that fell into her view was still blonde. But she was a she. And she was the same she that she'd been for all of her life until that morning.
And she breathed a sigh of relief as she exited the garage and walked to the front door of her house. "Thank you, Jon," she whispered as she unlocked the door.
"Oh, come in!" Bethany greeted her daughter. "I'm just finishing up dinner. Is that boy still out there?"
For a moment, Karyn was confused. What boy? But then it came back: she had been a boy until just a moment ago. She'd been Biff.
"You mean Biff? He was finishing up right when I got here," Karyn covered for herself. "He just left."
"Oh, that's a shame. I made extra in case he wanted to eat with us."
Karyn shrugged.
"Maybe next time," Bethany said pleasantly as she made up two table settings and returned to the kitchen.
Normal. Everything was normal again. Maybe part of it was the peace she felt from working with her hands a bit, but being inside of her own home, inside of her own body, talking to her own mom who actually saw her as her daughter, it felt like she was Alice, returning back through the looking glass and into the real world.
Biff, meanwhile, was just stepping back out into the parking lot in front of Nana's Quilting Store, the jingle of the door bell still ringing in his ears, when his own body came back to him.
It wasn't even his body that he noticed first, but his truck, materializing in what had been an empty parking space just a moment ago. He blinked a moment at the strangeness of it, mixing with familiarity. It was only as his hand reached to open the door when he noticed it was no longer attached to the soft, hairless arm that he'd been looking at all day, but rather the rough, hairy arm that should have felt more familiar to him.
Biff pulled himself up into the cab, ready to shrug off the day's experiences and drive home like everything was normal. Then he tossed the plastic shopping bag he was holding onto the passenger seat. It slumped over, letting two bundles of yarn fall out onto the black leather, followed by crochet hooks, and a book of crochet patterns.
His hand reached out to the bag, then stopped. Biff looked up, out the windshield of his truck as it faced the storefront of Nana's. His eyes peered past the words painted on the window, up towards the ceiling of the shop, and drew themselves to the image of a winter cabin made out of fabric.
Biff looked at it for a good, hard minute.
Then he turned his attention back to the plastic bag beside him, and carefully re-arranged the contents back inside of it so that they were neat and organized, and would sit stable for the entirety of his trip home.
