Culture Shock

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Authors: Ginger Simpson
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coming from across the room baffled his mind. He plopped down on the sofa and lowered his head into his hands. This couldn't be happening. It was a dream…a really, really bad dream and he was about to wake up.
    Looking beyond his lap to the floor, he noticed petite feet wearing trendy, sling-back sandals. He willed the toes to wiggle, and the ones in the shoes did. "Holy crap! This isn't a dream, it's a nightmare!" He glanced across at what used to be his body. "Cynthia? Are you in there?"
    She raised her hands and held them in front of her face, then turned them over and over, examining the massive fingers and hairy knuckles. She touched her cheek and her eyes widened. "Oh, my God, I'm growing a beard!" Tears blurred her eyes his eyes. "This can't be happening. Lord help me! I'm in your body." She crawled up and sat in the easy chair, her gaze an empty stare of disbelief.
    Both were speechless for a few minutes, but finally, Alex turned to Cynthia. "How did this happen?" he asked, in a panic-stricken female voice. "Please slap me and get me out of this hell."

 
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Cynthia held her breath and tried to let reality sink in. Yesterday, she worried about looking like the abducted women and now she looked exactly like Alex. Which was worse?
    If she wasn't staring at herself on the sofa across the way and dealing with the structure of a new body, she'd swear this was all something out of a scary movie. Any minute now the credits would roll and she could leave the theatre and resume her normal life. Somehow, the panic building in her chest was far more than fear caused by acting.
    She crossed, then quickly uncrossed, her legs, and put her feet squarely on the floor. "Criminy, no wonder you guys never sit like that. It's uncomfortable."
    Alex stood and began to pace. He stopped and kicked off her shoes. "How in the hell do you walk in these flimsy things?"  
    "I think we have a much bigger problem here than my shoes," she snapped. "We have to fix this. Clearly something horrible and unexplainable has happened to us."
    His shoulders slumped. "I know, I know! The lamp must have shorted out and been the cause. God, I thought things like this only happened in the movies."
    "Well, until now, so did I. But evidently we were wrong." She held her hand to a headache building in her forehead. Ideas jumbled in her brain. "So, to fix this, all we have to do is shock ourselves again?"
    Alex stared at her. "Yeah, right! All we have to do is determine just how much we can take before we electrocute ourselves. I don't know about you, but as badly as this may seem, I'd rather not kill myself ... or you, since I seem to be borrowing your body for the moment." He sagged onto the sofa, leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling.
    "I'm not so sure I agree. This is horrible, and at this point I might be willing to take the risk. But, since you aren't, what do you propose we do?"
    God, it sounded so strange to hear her own voice asking herself what she proposed to do.
    Alex lifted his head. "This is so weird. I'm talking to you and looking at myself." He dipped his chin and stared at the floor. "I don't have any idea. This isn't exactly something that happens to me on a regular basis."
    "Well, we can't stay like this! For heaven's sake, my brother is coming to visit. How am I supposed to explain this to him? For that matter, how am I supposed to show up at work on Monday? Did you think about that?" Welling panic caused an inflection in her voice.
    "I find it frustrating that you insist I fix the problem," he snarled. "I'm just as upset as you are, and for some strange reason I want to slap you, but I'm afraid I'll bruise my own face."
    The tension lifted for a moment as the sound of Cynthia's booming laughter shattered the silence. "I'm sorry. This isn't funny, but I just pictured you slapping me. Then I'd have to punch you and hurt myself."
    Despite the stress, they collapsed into hysterical laughter until a moment of sanity

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