Sara dropped herself on to a couch while Ben went to get her a glass of water. She could hear him tapping around toward the cupboards. She was trying to kick her little Nikes off her feet, but they wouldn't budge. With one foot on the heel of the other shoe, she pushed with as much force as she could muster.

  They were glued on quite tightly.

  Finally, letting frustration overcome her laziness, she began to unlace them. When they were loose enough, Sara slipped them off and took off her socks. Red marks crisscrossed across the tops of her feet where the shoelaces had bit into them. She rubbed them as best as she could.

  "What the?" The reflective purple nail polish on both her toes and fingers had begun to peel away in several spots. "I just put this on this afternoon!" It had retreated from the edges of each one of her nails and wouldn't go back regardless of how much she rubbed them. The faucet turned on.

  "Something wrong in there?"

  "This polish I got last week is defective! It's coming off!"

  "Well, it looks fine to me." He walked over to her with a full glass, careful to step around the footstool. Sara smiled.

  "Gee, thanks." She looked back at her toes and wiggled them. "I can't believe how cheap this stuff is though. One jog, and it even wasn't much of a jog, and it comes off."

  "Return it, get your money back. I'd be happy to do it for you if you weren't feeling up to it."

  "I wonder what other stuff I have is going to muck up on me today. I'm sorry Benji, did you say something?"

  "No, not really."

  "I'm going to go change, these shorts are really riding up and... OH!" As she stood up, the world turned upside down again. She didn't have time to mull over it long when pain seared through both of her ears. She yelped and brought both of her hands to the side of her head.

  "What is it? Sara? What is it?"

  "All of a sudden my earrings were pinching me, quite a bit too." She threw them down on the floor in disgust. "What else is going to go wrong this week?" She stomped out in a huff.

  Ben quietly moved to the floor where he began to feel for her discarded earrings and put them in a safe place for her.

-     -     -

  Sara had a headache; it was a small one but it had the potential to become wicked indeed. Her bedroom looked uncomfortable for some inexplicable reason and it did nothing for her disposition. She looked at herself in the mirror for a few seconds then sneered. She grabbed the bottom of her jogging shirt and began to pull it over her head. She stopped.

  Sara stared at the mirror as she pulled her shirt down as far as it could go. She let it dangle loosely. Her belly button was peeking out from underneath the lower hem. She tugged on it again and then let go. The cotton, though a little sticky with her light sweat, shifted back to where it was and her navel once again peered out. Sara stood up a little straighter and watched as her shirt creeped up a little more. Not only could it not cover all it used to, but her stomach looked slightly leaner; maybe even a little stronger, not to mention...

  Sara tore her shirt off and leaped closer to the mirror. Her sports bra had always had the irritating habit of squishing her already small chest further against her body, but as she examined herself she saw that this was not exactly the case. She slowly brought her hands up to her torso and patted herself.

  This was not a delusion, her breasts were larger; and not by just a little either. They were a good cup size bigger and firm enough to push out the tight fabric quite nicely. She could do nothing but stand in astonishment. Her eyes moved to the top of the mirror.

  She cocked her head in speculation, something was oddly different. After a few more seconds she whirled her head around and scanned her bedroom. It wasn't just the mirror. It was her dresser, the bookshelf, the night stand, even the doorway. Everything looked, somewhat...

  Smaller.

  Sara's breathing was shallow from a mixture of fear, excitement, and even a little horror. She ran to her dresser and tore open her sock drawer. Frilly, multicolored footwear flew through the air as she searched for what she wanted. Back in high school, a cruel classmate had given it to her on her birthday as a gag gift. She never knew exactly why she had kept it; she never had any need or desire to use it, until now. Sara stopped and closed her hand around a small roll of measuring tape. Her hand trembled as she took it out of it's hiding place. She turned and picked a nice spot to use.

  Feet firmly planted on the ground, Sara leaned up against the wall. She closed her eyes and stretched as tall as she could. With an eyeliner pencil she made a small mark just above her head. After turning around she looked at at it for a few moments. It just stared back at her, almost mockingly. She unraveled the measuring tape and let it fall to the floor; she pulled it taut. Sara blinked, than stared into the distance as the tape fell to the ground.

  It had read 4'11"... and a half. She was almost five feet tall. There wasn't a mistake, she had checked it twice. She had to sit down.

  "What the hell is happening to me?" There was no answer and she had really been hoping for one. The khakis she had torn earlier was in the corner, the shoes she had trouble with were there too. They probably wouldn't go on any easier now then they had that afternoon.

  "Sara? Are you okay in there?"

  Benjamin, he was still there. She had to go back out in the living room.

  "You didn't fall down again did you?"

  "No Ben, I'll be right there."

  "Good, because the pizzas are here."

  Sara stood and took one last look in the mirror. Her sports bra was always a little tight and it didn't feel all that different, even though it sure did look different when she stared at it. She took it off and gawked at her new body. She had always been petite, but as she examined herself "petite" wasn't the word that best described her anymore. She was still pretty short, but her breasts were firmer and rounder instead of slightly drooping and pointy. Sara carefully touched them, pulling her fingers away when she felt their warm tips whisper across her chest.

  They were real. They were huge. Well, maybe not huge; but they were certainly bigger (and better) than they were this morning. A light breeze flowed into the room through the open window, chilling her warm skin and sending a pleasurable tingle through her body. They were sensitive. They were quite lovely. Sara smiled, but quickly frowned.

  How the hell did this happen? I need some pizza.

-     -     -

  "Feeling better?"

  "Yes, now that I have this." Sara hefted a large slice of olive and mushroom to her lips and bit off a nice large chunk. She kept staring at Ben, trying to ascertain if he looked any smaller to her.

  Should I tell him?

  Ben was nibbling on a piece of plain cheese pizza and listening to the news on the television.

  No, not yet.

  "I sure am glad we called this order in while coming back. I don't think I could have waited a half an hour after getting here."

  "Uh huh." Sara reached over to Ben's bag and pulled out his wallet as quietly as she could. Luckily, it was on top since he just tossed it in after paying for the pizzas. She looked up at him to see if he had heard her, but his ears were still pointed at the incoming news. She slipped out his identification card and examined it. She quickly saw what she wanted to see : HT : 5' 9". Sara nodded to herself and put both back from where she had taken them. She finished off her slice, chewing contentedly.

  "Do you need anything Sara? More water? A napkin? Wine?"

  "I'm fine Ben, thank you."

  There was a dry tone to her voice that made him feel underappreciated. He didn't dare show it out of fear of hurting her feelings. He was just content with helping her out of his own kindness if that's all it meant. He didn't know it, but she was staring at him smiling.

  Sara leaned back in her chair and watched with contented satisfaction as the lower cuff on her blue sweats slid up her calves. She looked at her stomach and saw where her shirt was again too small to cover all of her burgeoning upper body. Two small bumps were protruding from on top of two good sized mounds through her gray t-shirt; she giggled.

  "Did I say something funny?" Ben secretly hoped he had.

  "I just remembered a joke Steph told me today."

  He sighed. Sara had the uncontrollable urge to measure herself again.

  "Ben?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm feeling pretty tired, I think I'd like to go to sleep now."

  "Oh, I guess I'll be going then. Are you sure you don't need anything before I go?"

  "I'll be okay Benji, thanks for all of your help tonight. It was really sweet of you."

  Something in his soul soared briefly and he got to his feet.

  Sara went over to the door to show him out. She looked at him from head to toe. He was hearing his thick running shoes that protected his toes from blindly hitting obstacles. They gave him a good, extra two inches. In her bare feet she could still tell that he was shorter to her than before.

  "Well Sara, I had a really good time tonight. We should do this regularly, don't you think?"

  "That's not such a bad ide... uh," she doubled over and put a hand to her head as it began to spin again. It passed quickly and she blinked as her vision cleared. She was staring at her toes and she marveled at the peeling polish that had visibly retreated further from the edges of her nails.

  "Sara, are you having another spell? Maybe I should stay a little longer."

  "NO! Ben I'm fine. Thank you. I have to go." She slammed the door in his face.

  He sighed again and slowly began walking out of her building. As he stepped out onto the street, he turned his head and pointed his ear at her bedroom window. After a few seconds he heard her squeal with delight. He continued walking.

-     -     -

  Sara slept soundly on her tiny mattress, she had sprouted to just over five feet before she climbed into bed. She knew that the light feinting spells were directly related to her "spurts" and she was looking forward to future ones.

  She dreamed of walking down a runway in high heels and skimpy clothing designed by snooty French people. Towering over her peers in the dressing room as they all changed into their next ensemble. They would look at her with awe, wonder, and great envy. She never needed any of those fancy push-up bras to enhance her image. Sara was firm and proud; a goddess. Everyone knew it and she loved it. She had everything she ever dreamed of and more.

  Oh yes; she slept soundly.

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