Going into Town

It had been a few weeks now since James Samuels and I had switched bodies. I'd been on a road trip down to the coast when my car broke down in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully I was able to get it towed to the nearest town with a garage. James was one of the mechanics there, he was tall, with a weight to his frame that made him seem solid, a sweet guy and a middle-aged bachelor. He offered me to crash at his place until my car was fixed. And so, trying not blush, I accepted.

James lived in what I could only describe as half of a duplex. His house was tall and narrow. Its paint faded and its wood beams chipped. It sat at the end of a long, unpaved driveway, surrounded by tall, spindly trees which provided the property shade and an air of privacy.

It didn't take long for the strange to occur. After a surprisingly delicious dinner prepared by my guest, I settled comfortably on the couch while James retired to his bedroom upstairs. The next morning I groggily awakened, feeling strange and clumsy. I quickly realized I was in James' bed, and after almost fainting from the sock of standing up to the entirety of my new height, I rushed downstairs to find myself looking as disoriented as I felt on the couch. This switch came out of nowhere. And with no clue as to where to even start looking for a solution, we decided to bunker down in James' house until we switched back, hopefully.

That was almost a month since that fateful morning, and we're starting to run out of food. James has spent the past week trying to teach me all we could think of to help me pass as him with his neighbors. I think I've this though. Everything James taught me came extremely natural, to the point that I was able to slip between myself and a perfect imitation of him with ease.

But it's time to see if my confidence is well deserved. Today I'm taking James' truck into town to restock our supplies.