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The Closet - Part 2

on August 20, 2026

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The Closet - Part 1

on August 17, 2026

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Seizing the Moment

on June 21, 2026

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A Year In - Finale

on May 28, 2026

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A Year In - Part 6

on May 28, 2026

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A Dream Come True

They’d never been close, not the way little sisters and big brothers were supposed to be—the way their parents described them to relatives, the way strangers always assumed. The three-year gap between them might as well have been a decade, and the difference only widened after both of them hit puberty, though in diametrically opposite ways. Eli, the elder, grew puffy in the face and shoulders. Lily, meanwhile, was all angles and light. She radiated: her hair, her laugh. She was the kind of girl mothers in the neighborhood would coo over—oh, she’s going to break hearts—while their sons squirmed and blushed. And Eli, in the background, nursed a private, mortifying envy. Shamefully, he pictured himself in her place, at the vanity, coaxing his own hair into those effortless waves, coaxing those impossible legs smooth and bare. He’d always been a little obsessed with the idea—what if he’d been born the girl, and Lily the oafish older brother? Would he have gotten to be pretty, too? Wou...

Seizing the Moment

The first thing Tom noticed was the heavy, sweltering heat of a Parisian morning. The air conditioning in their tiny boutique hotel room overlooking the bustling streets of Saint-Germain had given out overnight, leaving the air thick, sticky, and smelling of warm asphalt and croissants. But the second thing he noticed was far more alarming: the weight of his own hair. It was long, soft, and tickled his collarbone—a sensation he had never experienced in his eighteen years of having a buzzed fade. He reached up to brush it away, but the hand that moved was wrong. The fingers were slender, the nails painted a clean, soft lavender. He froze. His heart hammered, but the rhythm felt lighter, faster, contained in a ribcage that felt entirely too narrow and remarkably delicate. Slowly, carefully, he turned his head on the flat, firm pillow. Just inches away, sleeping on his side under the thin linen sheet, was himself. Or rather, it was his own face—slack-jawed, a thin line of drool pooling on...

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I hadn’t touched the pendant since. But, for whatever reason, as I watched Ana share gossip between bites, I started to wonder what it would be like to possess her again now. I caught myself staring a little too long and tore my eyes away from her, pretending to check my phone. I wasn't eleven years old anymore. I was a grown man. Ana was mid-sentence, recounting some minor drama involving her husband, Lucas, and their six-year-old twins. I wasn't really listening—I was watching her hands, the way she gestured with long, lacquered fingers. I pictured what it would be like to slip inside her again, to inhabit that body transformed by years and experience. I felt my throat dry as I watched Ana laugh, sensing that old, electric pull inside me. I needed a break to collect myself. I jerked my hand up in a gesture that interrupted her story—"Excuse me for a sec," I said, and hurried off toward the men's room with a clumsy urgency. I locked the door behind me and splashe...

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“This is fucked up!” Sarah in her brother, George’s body, whined, “How is this even possible?” “You heard Mom and Dad. They're getting in touch with the swapping company. I think it’s pretty rare that people would get swapped back into the wrong bodies after a swap-cation.” “How long before that company fixes this? What if they can’t?” “They’ll fix it. They have, like, a whole department for post-vacation glitches. Mom forwarded me some email,” George said. “It’ll probably be, like, a few days at most.” “Ugh, I hate this…” George looked down at his sister’s generous cleavage and blushed, “Well, it’s not too bad…” Sarah glared, “I am sitting right here, you perv.” “What?” George shrugged, trying for nonchalance, “It’s my body now” He grabbed fistfuls of Sarah’s breasts and moaned in exaggerated pleasure, eyes wide and cartoonish. “Holy shit, these are heavy,” He patted them indecorously, and Sarah—inhabiting George’s skinny frame—lunged across the kitchen table to smack his arm. “Oh...

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