The Candidates

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I followed him to school one day when I was very bored, because he was so busy and I just felt ignored.

Ever since he was a child, I always lingered near to whisper little secrets in his little ear.

Suspect me a spirit, a ghost, or some other being, but he always felt me while never seeing.

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But only a spirit out of her spirited mind would try to construct her thoughts in a particular rhyme and keep it that way without getting frustrated. Obviously, I’m not that sort.

I’m the sort who would linger beside a man from childish times to adulthood in a game gone on too long.

My favorite games came when it was time for him to dress. Just a little pull, tap, and a press and he’d puzzle over how his pale plaid shirt pooled down his legs or how he now had clothes he didn’t remember buying.

But not even those things really ruffled him anymore or even led to quiet confusion. He sighed and took them in stride. I’d snort and pout but still, I played.

His coffee was sweet without any sugar and his eggs tasted spicy without any sauce. I continued to pull, touch, and try, but I often held back though I can’t tell you quite why.

But it wasn’t enough, and I wouldn’t do more. I felt empty and alone each time he walked out the door. So, I followed, as I so rarely did.

I floated above sidewalks, streets, buses, and the fleet feet of others till I arrived with him at his student government class.

At least, that’s what it seemed to be. The whole thing made little sense to me.

His students were seated in two massive rings of tables and chairs of mild mahogany. They all looked so different, but I caught one curious trend. Of the more than forty present, only ten then were girls.

I slipped between tables and people like a slight rustle of wind. Their eyes followed after where I had just been.

Still, I let him lecture and say things that seemed important as I watched the students.

They took their notes and shared curious questions. Some showed shimmers of mischievous looks. I liked those best.

But the rest were so quiet, so dull, still, and boring. I had to do something…but what?

Beyond the rings of tables, I saw they were in a library with piles and aisles of musty bright books. Perhaps the pages would burst forth with kindred fairies from the memories of trees?

It was something but not fun enough for me.

Perhaps turn back the clock on each of them to wide-eyed children still full of perfect nonsense? Might be fun, but not in the ways I liked to enjoy

If I was to do anything then I’d have to choose, one out of many to carefully confuse.

I drifted and sifted between those around, all the while without making a sound. Then it struck me so sharply I held in my air. An idea of such boldness…do I even dare?

Just ten among many, that didn’t seem fair. Why not just a few girls more?

With a snicker and smirk, I looked everywhere and saw each I saw as they were and then as they weren’t. All in my eyes alone, they shifted and showed in ways they’d never known.

From a fragment of lecture I’d come to ignore, he called on candidates from some dull ‘government’ game, whereas my candidates would know real change.

It didn’t take long before I had my first. He didn’t stand out nor did he hide as he got to his feet, showing faint pride.

He started a speech about why he was the best, noting his qualities above all the rest. So I took him at that and, in my own way, pressed.

Where once she had locks cropped close and charcoal, they now flowed down in midnight curls over her shoulders. She coughed out her next word as it squeaked in her throat but brushed back a long lock and continued why she should have their vote.

Her slim crimson shirt was just as cute and her dark denim jeans still had their droop.

But though her hips showed and so did her chest, with the respectable outline of a new pair of breasts, she continued as if nothing had changed.

The others knew then though they didn’t know why. They gaped and they gasped with slack, paling faces. None of them ran. They stayed in their places.

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Their teacher, my friend, almost sought me out though he folded his arms with a furrow of doubt.

Annoyed by the calm, I pressed a bit more as the former boy, no matter how she might stretch, was ever closer to the floor. Her petite arms swung wide with animated oration and, though her chest shifted, she sensed not the sensations.

Shaking my head, I knew what I had to do. I stuck out my finger, probed brain, and pressed in a clue.

With that she paused, as though just waking up and quickly reached down and found much chest to cup. Finally came shock, surprise, and loud crying out, her feminine form with no chance of doubt.

My friend rushed to comfort her and loomed like an oak, and all others rose to their feet so they could best glimpse my joke. Yelling leaves one tired and hoarse. Shock lasts only a few furious breaths of dread. Surprise comes just once and then it’s all said.

She tried to explain it, pinching at her sensitive flesh. I watched till she was led to the restroom and started looking for my next.

I went for the quiet one, off to the side and almost trying to hide. I drifted round the shelves and up the high, sunlit ceiling till I snuck up behind and pressed him into a hug. She didn’t need quite the coaxing of the other.

She gazed in awe at her brand-new blouse, curling skirt, and quivering bounce. Soft shaggy straw locks bloomed past her neck, painted in cobalt with only faint platinum streaks.

The rest of her was fetching and faint in her new clothes. She stammered out for attention with a begrudging blubber. That was enough but I couldn’t stop there. There were still so many left to make fair.

But I relished each reaction and each test of self. I’d never know what it was like for flesh, let alone for it to change. Still, it was fun to watch.

The two were so different. The blond embraced despite her concern. She was careful and aware and seemed to like how her new clothes fitted. Definitely not low-witted.

My next, once a broad, dark man with a full belly, stood shivering with shock pink hair and a satin dress so short she risked showing her underwear. It was a cute form adorned with soft flair.

Many after that didn’t know what to say. Such as one who held not a backpack but a colorful bouquet. Her light head of hair crimsoned and grew a gold bow and her grassy gown had plenty of ruffles to show. She squeezed tight her thick thighs and looked starkly ahead as her entire head seemed painted red.

I made girl after girl but with fainter surprise, from the quiver of their shoes to the wide of their eyes.

So I had to add features and new little sensations to make fresh each and every occasion.

Elven ears, bionic limbs, and new tongues. I let my imagination flow.

For the last, I saved the one who kept his head down, who tried to sneak out between the shelves as the chaos came in waves. I gave him my face with its curling, clever lines drawn up in quick smirks.

I molded her fanning ears to tickle my short, radiant-green pixie cut. I lent her my trim, tapering legs and barely-there hips. I sent her my energy rippling through my creased chest and down to those spry, unused legs.

She leapt and twirled and ran at my friend without needing to be told. And she hugged him tight in a way I could only mime and imagine. She giggled my joy and kissed him on his arm.

My friend could’ve been next, but I left him. This time.

Anarchy swelled from restrooms to far off doors as girl questioned girl, the old and the new. Kinship and words traded freely. Some stayed alone only if they wanted.

But I couldn’t let them leave, as they wished, as their legs twitched to run and race far away. After all, my friend hadn’t dismissed them.

Then came the bell and my fun was done. Boys were left groping at phantom sensations in relief and disappointment. They didn’t need to worry though.

As I knew I would be a bored fool if I stayed home from school ever again when I could change so many unsuspecting men.