Chapter 1
Messages from an old friend (Short Story)
By Barbara Harrison
Hi Guys,
I keep remembering this weird, nursery rhyme from childhood. However, even though I’ve tried all manner of research nobody seems to know of, or have any records of it.
I was wondering could you please help. It goes:
“Shape shifter, shape shifter,
Mind grafter, mind grafter,
Move swifter, shape shifter.”
I can’t seem to stop thinking about it.
Regards
L
***
Hi Guys,
So, I was on my way somewhere when I noticed how dirty the bedroom mirror was. I dutifully grabbed a t-shirt from the floor, dampened it in the bathroom and set to work.
As you can imagine this wasn’t very effective. It did, however, occur to me that if I continued I’d get some much-needed exercise. I immediately started applying the lauded wax-on-wax-off technique.
Then … the glass unexpectedly became viscus, malleable beneath my fingers. I pushed and moulded it, shaping a gateway, pushing through. Pushing and pushing …
And, that’s apparently how I ended up here – chemically shackled and with a major head wound. Hospital.
Regards
L
***
Hi Guys
I think I’ve finally pushed through to the other side. Nobody has responded to my messages.
Regards
L
An End
