Hamish steered his old Ford pickup truck into the parking lot behind the local dinner. Slipping out, he could hear the creaking of the suspension. Or had it been his back? Hamish could believe both. He wasn't the youngest anymore. Just a few more years, he always promised himself. Then he could enjoy retirement. What he would do with it was beyond Hamish. His work was his life. Without-

Shaking his head, he cleared those morose thoughts. His client could be waiting. She was the only client that had mattered for the past few years. With a practiced swing, Hamish slammed the door of his pickup shut. To his surprise, the door stayed put. Normally he needed a few tries. Maybe that was a good sign. He could use one.

Stepping onto the main street, Hamish took a moment to appreciate the small town of Bakersville. Just a few years prior, it had been desolate and run down. Barely any soul had been on the sidewalk. Now, new shops have opened up. Trees and potted plants lined the street. He couldn't spot a single piece of trash. Bakersville had changed. It was idyllic now. The picturesque ideal of a small town.

Hamish shuddered. Everything came at a price. He himself was not without sin. His hands were dirty too. He had played a part. Still did. His client was waiting. She didn't like to wait. That, he knew.

Hamish walked up to Benny's Diner. Beyond the glass door, he saw the classical look of the fifties. An iconic design. Benny had never cared for that. Had barely cared to run his diner. It had looked the part. Neglected and run down.

Hamish walked in and Benny waved from the kitchen at him. All smiles. He looked happy. And for all that Hamish knew, that might be the truth. Benny had changed. As had his diner. Both hadn't been voluntary.

His client sat in her usual booth. Staring out onto the street. She only noticed him when he reached the booth himself. "Gladis," he acknowledged her and gave a tip of his imaginary hat. Hamish hated the gesture, but Gladis appeared to like it. Everything that made her happy was good practice in general.

"Hamish. There you are. Sit." Gladis was all smiles and sugary. Belying the predator beneath her facade. "How is business?"

Hamish sat down opposite her and tried to prevent a groan from slipping out. His body reminded him from time to time how hard he had worked in the last few decades. Instead of an acknowledgment of his pain, he gave the best casual smile that he could muster. "I left my schedule wide open for you."

"Excellent!" Just then, a waitress in a retro uniform showed up. Gladis held up a finger to give her pause. She pulled out a slim folder and slid it over to Hamish. "My newest project. Why don't you take a look while I order us something? My treat."

As always, Hamish hesitated to reach for the folder. How many of these projects had he helped her with? Involuntary, he glanced at the waitress. Her name was Janice or Jasmine. Something starting with a J. It had been Kyle Handerson, Hamish remembered. It happened just after they had remodeled Benny's Diner - and Benny - when Gladis decided it needed proper staff. Kyle had been unemployed and a drunkard. Now, she was mid-twenties, all smiles, and all woman.

Hamish reached for the folder. It would contain who her newest victim would become. Gladis' projects weren't renovations. That followed after. It was people. Whoever didn't fit her idea of the perfect small-town citizen. And she was good at it. Gladis was a witch. Body and mind yielded to her magic.

Determined to not push away the inevitable, Hamish opened up the folder. An all too familiar form greeted him. Filled out by Gladis' flowing handwriting. It would contain more information than he technically needed. He was this town's only carpenter. His profession for the last few decades. Now, thanks to Gladis, he could add interior design to his job description. It would fall to him to remodel the victim's place of living to the chosen new person they would become. In some cases - like Benny - he had to renovate their place of work too.

The first anomaly was the box that should contain the name of whoever drew Gladis' attention. Hamish wondered why. It wasn't like he could warn whoever was the next project. Running away was futile. Gladis had put some kind of spell over the whole town. None of the residents could speak of their plight to outsiders. They could leave the town, but not permanently. Only for legitimate reasons. They were trapped and there was no one to help them. So, why had she left the name blank?

Hamish knew who the person would become. A woman named Adele Walls. Age twenty-four. The occupation was professional YouTuber. There were some details to it, but Hamish skipped them for now. Youtube. The internet.

He hadn't been the biggest supporter of this innovative technology. Far from it. His niece had called him a stubborn mule until she finally convinced him to get a computer. And this dreaded internet. Hamish had used it to the bare minimum. Preferring personal contact, books, and good old-fashioned work. Not this techno mumbo-jumbo.

And then, Gladis arrived. Suddenly he was forced to acquire knowledge that was alien to him. His sense of interior design was outdated by decades. Now, he was forced to use this internet day by day. To acquire new information as fast as possible. A part of him resented the change. Yet he couldn't help but to agree with his niece too. He had been a stubborn mule and some of what the internet had to offer was useful. Not that he would admit it out loud.

"What do you think?" Gladis asked.

Reminded of the witch before him, Hamish did his best to school his face. "A YouTuber." The word sounded like a curse. "Are you sure you want those here? That could bring a lot of attention to Bakersville."

"Ah, Hamish." Gladis gave him one of those patronizing smiles usually reserved for grandparents giving their young grandchildren. "That's the point. Bakersville can't be a paragon of small-town living if no one knows about us."

Hamish strongly disagreed but kept his opinion to himself. Gladis was putting up a show. She wanted to present that perfect image of small-town nostalgia. A diorama with caged people in it. But it was all a lie. Then again, maybe that was the point. By acting as a paragon, maybe other small towns got revived too.

Instead of speaking up, Hamish returned his attention back to the file before him. He learned a few more generic details about the life Gladis had designed for one Adele Walls. The YouTuber to be. Most of it sounded quite mundane. A few details he would have to look up on the internet. Some of the modern slang was simply unknown to him.

And then, Hamish's stomach dropped. A tiny little detail. He had read over it two times, but it was the third time that it clicked in his head. A fact that changed everything.

He needed to get out. Fresh air. Get away from that witch before him. Hamish stood up. The folder was still in his grasp.

"Hamish?"

"I better get started," Hamish heard himself say. As if someone puppeted his mouth.

"Don't be hasty," Gladis chided him. "You haven't even eaten yet."

The last thing Hamish wanted was to share a meal with this monster before him. And Gladis was a monster. Her cheerful and pleasant exterior might fool some. Even Hamish had to remind himself sometimes. Gladis was a fashion witch. One who could take away a person's human body and transform it into a simple garment. Sentient and alive, but trapped and at the whim of the witch.

Her normal handiwork was not better by much. Hamish hadn't known that fashion witches could do what Gladis can. Not just altering a human body, but the mind too. She could bend personality into a new shape and permanently alter one's memories. Granted, if the breadcrumbs he had picked up from Gladis were true, all these extra abilities were rare among fashion witches.

Hamish took a step back. "To be honest, I am not feeling that well. Ruins my appetite."

"You do look a little pale," Gladis conceded. "Don't get sick on me. We have work to do."

"I will do my best." As Gladis dismissed him, Hamish made his way out of the diner. Barely avoiding running out instead of walking. He needed air. Desperately.

He made it all the way around the diner to the parking lot before Hamish started to heave and barf up the last remains of his breakfast. Then, with shaky legs, he made for his pickup truck. Getting in, Hamish threw the folder on the passenger seat and rested his hands on the steering wheel.

"That monster!" A fit of rage overcame him and Hamish hit the steering wheel to let go of some of his anger. This was quite unusual for him, but the situation warranted it. His gaze went to the folder. It had fallen open and revealed the future details of Adele Walls. A YouTuber with a specialization in crafting and woodworking. There was only one person in town who had that particular skill set. "As if leaving the original name empty would keep me fooled!"

And yet, no amount of rage would help. Magic prevented him from running. He couldn't bring himself to call anyone and ask for help. Part of the enchantment that laid on him and every other town member. Hamish was trapped and his future was already laid out.

---

An hour later, Hamish arrived home. It was only a five-minute drive from the diner to his small home, but Hamish remembered the lessons of his father all too well: "Never drive in anger or drunk. It will get you killed."

Getting out of his beaten-up truck, Hamish took a moment to look at his house. It wasn't the largest. Two stories. Later an added-on workshop for his job. The whole building was raised and built by himself nearly three decades ago. Sure, he had help from neighbors and friends, but it still represented his work.

He grabbed the dreaded folder and the form within. Hamish's eyes fell on the address of Adele Walls' future residence. The apartment above the drugstore of the Meyer family. Gladis wouldn't even let him keep his home.

Slamming the truck's door shut - this time he needed three tries - Hamish walked to his home. Everything about it was familiar to him. One could say it was an extension. An expression of his carpenter skills and his personality. Unlike his late brother, Hamish had never married. This house represented him and him alone.

Inside, most of the furniture was his handiwork too. He didn't give a crap about that mass-produced stuff by IKEA and other big companies. Handcrafted was better. That the monster Gladis agreed was a thorn in his side.

Instead of his usual routine, Hamish went to the kitchen and opened up a cupboard he rarely opened. The half-full bottle of single malt whiskey had dust on it. He didn't believe in self-medication, but sometimes shit hit the fan and one needed something to dull the sharp point of dread. Hamish remembered the last time he had taken out this bottle. The day his brother died in a car crash.

For hours, Hamish sat at the dining table and stared at that dreaded folder. Only now and then taking a sip of whiskey. His future was sealed in that document. He couldn't run from it and he couldn't hide from it. And going against a fashion witch was suicide. No, worse than that.

"Better be a woman than to become panties."

Or any other garments. If he would become a garment in the case of pissing off Gladis. He had heard horror stories about object transformations that were much worse. Compared to that, Hamish should consider himself lucky that his fate was only to become a woman.

"Why a woman?" he asked into the room. Of course, no one answered him. "Doesn't make sense. Why not leave me as a man? Shouldn't make a difference if I make videos as a man or woman."

Hamish took another look at the file. YouTuber. He knew nothing about making videos. Had no idea about the technical know-how or how to moderate one. They probably have to be planned too. Unknown territory. Much like some of the buzzwords Gladis had scribbled down. What the hell was upcycling?

As twilight settled over the room, Hamish stood up. The bottle was empty anyways. With unsure steps, he climbed the stairs. Collapsed on his bed. His fate was sealed and Hamish knew he should wallow in his own pity. Maybe tomorrow would be better. He sure hoped so.

---

Hamish groaned as he got up. His head hammered with pain and he sluggishly made for his medicine cabinet. He had never been good with alcohol, but his advanced age made it a lot worse.

"Not to worry. Soon I'll be young again."

There was a cheery thought and it nearly made him laugh out loud. So much for his well-deserved retirement. Hopefully, Gladis would fix his back too. That was something to look forward to.

Hamish stopped after swallowing two ibuprofen and a glass of water. His hand paused mid-movement to refill the glass. Yesterday, he had been all gloom and doom since meeting Gladis. The life he knew was about to end and a new one would start. Now a new day had started and he suddenly had a strange realization. Maybe there were aspects of it that weren't that bad. Maybe even advantageous.

Closing the medicine cabinet, Hamish was confronted with his mirror image. What stared back was a man past his prime. With a roughness to him that no woman had ever filed down as he never had a relationship lasting longer than a few months. His reflection also looked old and tired. Weary by a long life of work and not much else.

Making his way downstairs, Hamish really took in his home and saw what he got. It was familiar. An extension of himself. "You haven't changed much, have you?" he asked as he let his fingers run over the walls. Just like him, his house had stagnated.

When he was young, Hamish had always found a project or two to improve his home. Friends had even joked that his house would never be finished. But in time, Hamish had found fewer and fewer things to improve. And then, he simply stopped. Only getting his tools out if something needed repairing.

In the last few years, Hamish had to learn a lot about interior design. He had always used it to reimagine other homes. Never his own. Now, he looked for the first time at his domain. It was clean and well-maintained. It also looked outdated. A relic of the past. Just like himself.

Hamish made breakfast on autopilot. Waiting for the headache that plagued him to recede. Only once his stomach was full and he could think clearly, Hamish pulled the folder close and started to read again.

Again, anger flared up within him as he took the details in. Yes, losing over thirty years of age wasn't that bad. But why did he have to be a woman? Or a YouTuber for that matter. Maybe he could ask Gladis to reconsider. He had done it before. A suggestion here and there. Small things.

And there was the problem. Never had he dared to debate her on a major point of change. Gladis was a fashion witch, after all. And while she could be all smiles, Hamish knew her temper could change at the drop of a hat. He doubted he could change her plans. Maybe he could tweak it, but Hamish had to admit to himself that he was on lost ground. Adele would be a YouTuber and she would be a woman. Those were the cornerstones of her persona. Hamish had to accept these facts along that he would become her.

"I have to make my peace with it," he mumbled to himself. There was no sense in fighting it, but if he accepted the fact then maybe he could suggest some alterations. Minor ones. But which one?

Hamish grabbed the folder and walked to his computer. Until he knew, Hamish decided that denial was a goal strategy. Even if that denial was forced and not by heart. What would he do if Adele wasn't his future, but of someone else? If she was just another project of Gladis in which he had no stake in it.

The first step would be researching and here Hamish started. A woodworking YouTuber. Would there be some? Hamish had never bothered to look before. After all, he was a learned carpenter with over three decades of knowledge under his belt. Wood didn't change. What could he possibly learn?

To his surprise, he found plenty of videos. Carpenters of all ages uploaded videos on a variety of projects. He scrolled through them when Hamish noticed a small detail. Most of these YouTubers were male. Not many women uploaded videos. It surprised him. A part of him had always known that his craft was dominated by man, but since he always worked alone it wasn't that obvious. Or had he simply ignored this imbalance?

Of course, the implications were clear. Gladis didn't just want a Youtube personality to highlight Bakersville and the carpenter craft. No, she wanted to advocate for gender equality. To show more young girls and women that it was a legitimate option for them. That Gladis would cheat by making a man into such a role model of a woman had some irony to it. It also cemented the fact that there was no way Hamish could convince her to keep his original gender.

For a moment, anxiety and dread welled up within him, but Hamish pushed it down. Instead of dwelling on this fact, he immersed himself in the task. He had to know what female woodworking YouTubers actually did. What projects do they usually tackle? Their methods and planning.

It was a revelation that caught Hanish off guard. He had expected things like chairs, tables, bookcases, and cabinets. The bread and butter of carpentry. And yes, there were those projects. Though there were always twists to them. An elaborate design or hidden function. Floating shelves and bookcases that could be turned one hundred and eighty degrees to reveal a new face and shelves.

But there was also so much more. Cabins were built. Some even on trailers. Tiny homes were those called. Old houses were renovated. Teardrop camping trailers built from scratch. Small mods for cars too. From center consoles to storage racks in the back.

Quaint little pavilions were raised in backyards surrounded by fancy assembled trellis and artfully constructed fences. Flowers and vegetables alike found a home in wooden planters and raised beds. Or even simple covers for composting bins.

With that flood of strange applications, it was welcome to see smaller projects that weren't as abstract, like bread boxes and spice racks. Even creative uses of reusing log trimmings for live edge furniture.

But while many of these projects were astonishing, the way they were assembled and produced was the real epiphany for Hamish. The old-fashioned practices were still alive but were now augmented by specialized tools that he would have loved when he was younger. His old machinery couldn't hold water to the new ones that had special features Hamish hadn't thought possible.

And then there were machines that added whole new functionality. From CNC routers to laser cutting and etching. It was a whole new world to Hamish that he first tried to dismiss, but couldn't help but envision the possibilities.

Video by video was consumed by Hamish and he jumped from one topic to the next. Following some obscure algorithm of suggested videos he couldn't comprehend. The manufacturing of a medieval musical instrument led him to an entirely new topic that departed from carpentry. Something called Cosplay. It was a kind of dress-up that oriented itself based on fictional characters. Hamish couldn't help but watch video after video until he noticed that he had spent two hours off-topic.

Standing up from his computer, Hamish felt old again. He had missed so much. Instead of continuing to learn, he had stuck his head in the sand and let the world pass by. Confronted with his changed fate, he now had the opportunity to remedy this oversight. A part of him was excited at that prospect.

Less so for the fact that he would do it as a woman. Not that he had anything against women. If any girl or young woman had asked to be his apprentice, he would have welcomed them with open arms. Carpentry was for everyone in his opinion. But he still didn't want to be a woman.

He knew how to be a man. To take care of his body. How to act. What other people expected of him. For nearly sixty years he had been one. Forty if one didn't count his adolescent years. And even those - one could argue - were in preparation for being a man. Sure, Hamish had to unlearn a few things he had been taught in his early years. His father hadn't been a very progressive man on the whole gender equality topic. Hamish had strived to be a better man. And he liked what he had become. Felt comfortable. Save.

What did he know about being a woman? Next to nothing. Maybe that was the reason he never had a girlfriend for long. They were still creatures that were largely a mystery to him. Nowadays, the woman he had the most contact with was his niece and she had thankfully moved away before Gladis arrived in town. Once Hamish became one, he'd have to start from zero. Not even teenage years or a mother to show him the ropes. He has to learn a whole new set of rules and social conventions. Not just knowing them, but living them too. And then there was the whole topic of hygiene.

Tired, Hamish ran his hand over his face. His fingers stopped over the stubble of a three-day beard. Stroking it a few times. He needed a shave. A good one. And he knew just the place to get one.

With a goal in sight, Hamish headed out of the door.

---

The bell over the door rang as Hamish stepped into the barbershop. Still the same one as the one he had visited as a young man. He remembered how proud he had been the first time that there was actually enough of a beard to warrant a shave at a barber. It had felt like an important step in becoming a man. For decades the shop had barely changed. But now, it got a new look that ran deeper than a fresh coat of paint. Hamish still felt slightly guilty about his part in it.

"I'll be right with you," an African American woman said without looking up. Still busy with another customer. Her most prominent feature was her long tightly knit braids that were gathered into an elaborate knot on her head and still managed to reach down to her waist. Latisha - as she was now known - appeared to be in her late twenties. But Hamish knew better.

"Little Hamish. In for a shave?" Latisha asked once she finished up with the last client. "Any special occasion?"

"Not really," Hamish replied while taking a seat in the offered chair.

A moment later, Latisha had him lathered up and started to sharpen her blade. A straight razor. Latisha was a traditionalist. With expertise, she went to work. Letting the blade glide over his skin without nicking his skin even once.

The whole time, Hamish tried to find the words. How should he start approaching a very delicate topic? There was a good chance
Latisha didn't want to talk about it. It might be a sore spot.

"So? What's the real reason you came by?" Latisha asked as she started to clean the blade.

To his shock, Hamish noticed in the mirror that he was all done. Lost in thought, he had missed the entire shave. Again, Hamish tried to speak up but chickened out again. "Just needed a shave."

"A shave?" Latisha leaned against a nearby basin and gave him a stern look. "Hamish, I've shaven you since you were wee high. The only times you come by is if you want to look presentable for something official or going out. And we both know that that isn't it."

Hamish contemplated pointing out that he came by for haircuts too but knew it was futile. It was best to get it out of his chest. "I think Gladis' next project is me."

For a moment, Hamish expected mockery. After all, he hadn't just been complacent but actively helping Gladis. But Latisha had never been the person to give in to such things.

"That's a scary prospect. Believe me, I know." Latisha took a seat in a barber's chair and gave Hamish her whole attention. "Has she told you about your future self?"

"No." A little amount of anger flared up again. Anger that was misplaced if directed at Latisha, so Hamish took a second to calm down. "You know her forms, right? The first field is the name of the target person. This time, it was empty. That's a first. All the skills- Well, not all the skills. But the key skills needed match mine. And there is no one else in town who has them. And the rest? We both know that she can make you invested in learning them."

Latisha played with one of her braids between her fingers and remained quiet for a moment. "Yes, your conclusion has some merit. One never knows with Gladis, but Occam's razor suggests it is you. I guess you got a peek behind the curtain and am now worried about what you will become. Anything you want to share?"

"I will become Adele Walls." There. Hamish had said it out loud. Just doing so added to the feeling of inevitability of it.

"You are switching genders." Latisha gave a few small nods. More to herself than Hamish. "That's rare for Gladis. There is Jenna at Benny's Diner, Mariah, and - well - me. I guess you have some questions."

"I do." Of the three men before him who had become women, Hamish respected Latisha the most. She wasn't just the oldest, but in his opinion also the wisest. "If you are willing to talk about it. I mean, it has to be a sore spot for you."

Latisha gave him a genuine smile. "Yeah, I admit, I was a tad bit angry at first. Maybe a day or two. But then, when I looked past my anger, it wasn't as bad as I feared."

"So, the transition wasn't that bad?" When Latisha didn't answer straight away, Hamish used the opportunity to be more precise. "I mean, a different body. Different needs. The knowledge that is missing. How to act and behave as a woman."

"Ohh! That wasn't actually that bad. Mariah and I speculated why. I think Gladis gave us a woman's starter kit. From the moment I was changed, I knew how to adjust to a changed center of gravity. What and how to wear."

Hamish should be elated at the news. At least, he didn't have to suffer by missing knowledge and skills. But at the same time, it sounded like more and more of his personality would be overwritten. Just how much would be left of him?

"I didn't know she could grant knowledge and skills."

"I think she can only copy her own." Latisha leaned forward. "Get this. On day one, I have no problem whatsoever. Living my life as if I was born a woman. But not all works out perfectly. I knew how to take care of long hair. Was so sure of it. Nope. Turns out I knew how to take care of the hair type Gladis has. And before you ask, there are plenty of hair types. I mean, I am African American. Gladis is as Caucasian as it gets. I should have known that our care routines and products would be different. So much for spending decades as a barber. Yet when she copied her knowledge, I instinctively went with her approach. Took me two weeks to notice. And that's just one example."

"Sounds like those who get gender-bend by her get a rough start," Hamish concluded. "Those who remain their gender don't need the cliff notes provided by Gladis. Might also explain why she hasn't turned any woman into a man yet. "What other examples are there?"

"Well, you know that Mariah wasn't a seamstress and boutique owner before. Back as Hank, she had no clue about fashion." As Hamish nodded, Latisha dished out more. "You see when Hank became Mariah, she inherited Gladis' fashion sense."

Even Hamish could guess where this one was going. "Her style is a bit old-fashioned."

"A little? Last century!" Latisha exclaimed but stepped back a moment later. "Well, not quite. Whenever I see her, I feel back transported back into my twenties or thirties. Well, the first ones. Poor Mariah had to unlearn and educate herself on all matters of fashion. Well, I say poor Mariah, but you know how she is now. Loves fashion. Had the time of her life."

Hamish did a quick mental calculation. It appeared Gladis was stuck in the mid-fifties to mid-sixties of the last century. Or maybe she just fancied that era. Hamish couldn't tell.

"So, when I become Adele, I shouldn't think I am finished. There is still work to be done."

"That's true for all of us who were changed by Gladis. Not just those who became a woman." Latisha looked away for a moment of contemplation before addressing Hamish again. "Think of it like this. For one moment in time, Gladis takes a cake form and makes us the batter. A quick bake and a new cake is ready. But the moment we are out of the form, it is up to us to give the finishing touches. What frosting do we want to have? Sprinkles or not? Some sugary decorations on top? That's all up to us. We want to be as yummy as we can get, right?"

Hamish nodded along for the most part of the allegory, but the last part had him lost. "Yummy? Has Gladis some rule about looking as best as we can that I am not aware of?"

"Oh, right! There is probably something I should clue you in. So it doesn't come as such a shock as it had been for us." Latisha rarely was at a loss for words, but now she looked like she was hunting for just the right ones. "You see, of the three people she changed from men to women, all of us found out we now fancy men. Let me tell you, that was quite a shock to me the first time I accidentally flirted with someone. I didn't even mean to. It just came naturally to me and I only noticed when my proverbial hook caught a fish."

Hamish suddenly felt like someone had slapped him. He hadn't even thought about that aspect. For over four decades, he had pursued women. Not with a lot of long-term success. But he had been comfortable with it. Now, that would change. He couldn't even wrap his mind around it. He wasn't gay and when Gladis changed him then he would be- Well, technically not gay either. Still, it was one more thing Gladis was taking from him and he wasn't too happy about it.

"Relax," Latisha urged him. Maybe sensing his inner tumult. "It is not as bad as one might think. At first, I was reluctant to acknowledge it. To even experiment. Now, I couldn't imagine going back. As with a lot of Gladis' changes, it is a matter of acceptance. If you do, you can find happiness. If not, you are only making it hard on yourself."

"Just going with it? Sounds easier said than done." Hamish pinched his nose and wished this discussion was over. Yes, this was exactly why he had come here. To get an inside scoop of someone who went through it before. But it all was so much at once that his mind had trouble catching up. "So, not only will I have to be that YouTube influencer, but no, that isn't enough for Gladis. Gotta find a man. Settle down. Portrait that perfect family life here in Bakersville."

Latisha shrugged. "So far Gladis hasn't given me any trouble. Sure, I am now into men, but I feel no urge to settle down. I mean, it will be hard to find someone I can click with. Ever heard of a man in his late twenties or early thirties who can match the life experience of an eighty-year-old? If I go huntin' it is good that it is just for sugar, you know. The moment they try to appear deep I could roll my eyes. Finding even normal friends is hard enough."

Another aspect Hamish hadn't thought of. It wouldn't be such a stark change as with Latisha, but still, Hamish would lose over half his age in years. Fitting in might be troublesome. Right now, the challenge appeared to be insurmountable. Yet he had no chance of avoiding it. Going to Gladis and saying he wasn't up for it simply wasn't an option. Right now, the glass was half empty for Hamish.

He gave a small snort. Maybe he should suggest Gladis make him an optimist. So he could happily work on problems that would discourage most. But the thought gave him pause. Yes, Gladis would change him. Body and mind. There was no helping it. But maybe he could make some suggestions. If he was careful and could back it up with some logic. Going with Latisha's anecdote, maybe Hamish couldn't just influence the icing and toppings of the cake named Adele Walls. Maybe he could also get Gladis to change the ingredients of the dough.

"Thanks, Latisha," Hamish said as he finally stood up. "To be honest, I am now more concerned than before, but at least I know what I am dealing with. Maybe I can make my peace with it in the next month."

"I hope you do," Latisha cuffed his shoulder. "But don't sweat it too much. It will work out in the end. It has to, right? After all, that is what Gladis aims for. A town where everyone is happy."

But at what price? Every time Hanish had defined an answer to that, Gladis went a step further. This time, Hamish was up on the chopping block and the future looked daunting. But thanks to Latisha he knew what lay ahead. And with that, he could plan.

---

Rarely, Hamish had been this nervous. Pacing back and forth in the apartment above the drugstore that would become the home of Adele Walls. His new home. Again and again, Hamish had gone over his plan in the last few days. Held mock presentations while being alone. Trying to guess what Gladis would say and how she would react. He had only one chance at this. Soon, he would be Adele, but who Adele would be wasn't written in stone yet.

He wiped his sweaty hands for the fifth time and made minuscule position changes to the furniture he had assembled. Compared to his usual work, this looked sloppy. As if he had gathered them without thought or care. Only a few matched each other, but that was by design. Hamish had a plan.

Eventually, he heard Gladis make her way upstairs. As she entered, Hamish expected the usual cheerful greeting. Not so today. This was the mid-project meeting where Hamish usually showed his progress toward the final stage. A chance for Gladis to make corrections. An option she usually took in a liberal amount.

"Hamish." She gave him a frown of displeasure. One that usually spelled bad news if found on a fashion witch. "What is the meaning of this?"

Now was his chance. If Hamish could convince her of his first suggestion was valid, then he had a way in. A crack that he could exploit.

"I can explain. This is all on purpose," he said aloud while holding his hands up in a pacifying and non-threatening gesture. "Look. Adele is a YouTuber, right? Focused on woodworking and restoration. Even upcycling."

Hamish was quick to step over to a small round table with an elaborate matching chair. Both looked like they had seen better days.

"I found these two at a yardsale two towns over. Quite old, but still solid." Hamish was quick to point out some dents and flaked-off paint. "A perfect project for a first video. Showing how to strip the paint and treat the wood. What to watch out for when handling the wood and how to later paint it. Not to mention there is some refurbishment needed. They could look quite different than they are now."

"All of these." Hamish made a wide sweeping gesture at the many pieces of furniture he had gathered. Be it from flea markets or from attics of friends and acquaintances. "Perfect for projects and videos. Because that's what Adele needs, right? Not the perfect furnished apartment. But something to work on and show the world her progress."

He held his breath as Gladis contemplated his storm of words. At last, she nodded. "I haven't looked at it this way. Very thoughtful of you."

Hamish took it as an encouragement to continue. "Of course, I have repainted the whole apartment. In neutral tones. Adele then can use it as a base to repaint rooms as needed and as her mood strikes." Hamish already had plans for it. Having played interior designer for a few years, Hamish could guess what he would like once he was Adele. But it wasn't assured, so he held off for now.

"Let me show you the studio." Hamish led her to the biggest space beside the living room. Probably meant for a bed, Hamish had other plans. "So, Adele needs a space to make her videos, right? This room is perfect. Plenty of space to place her camera, lights, and an area to display projects. Here we have a desk to work on. Still needs a computer. And besides it, an old vanity I found."

Quite nervous, Hamish didn't dare take a break. He had to use the momentum and push forth. Now, it was time to make suggestions that would impact how Adele would turn out. If he messed up, he could easily land on the bad side of Gladis.

"Here we have a small shelf for fitness and sport. I know. A little unusual. This is a studio, right? But if not in use it is the perfect space to do some yoga or other workout. I imagine that Adele will be fit, but not too muscular. I guess you don't want her too dainty either. Or a total makeup guru. More like the girl next door pretty. She has to be relatable, but still pretty enough to give her charm a boost. But if she is too pretty - like a supermodel - no one would believe she does her own work. So, balance is needed."

"That is a good point. Let me write that down." As Gladis pulled out her own folder with the form for Adele Walls, Hamish was nearly excited enough to jump for joy. Yet, he stifled the urge. As Gladis glanced up, Hamish was glad to school his face. "That's quite unusual for you to take so much interest. Normally I have to figuratively pull the words from your mouth. How come?"

For a moment, Hamish was tempted to reveal his cards. Point out how obvious Gladis was. That he is meant to become Adele. It was only natural for him to take an interest. They were talking about who he would become for the rest of his life. But Hamish knew better than to antagonize Gladis.

"I just thought maybe getting a little more involved might be good," he lamely answered instead and downplayed it with a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders.

Gladis straightened up and regarded Hamish for a moment. Then breaking out in a small smile. "That's a nice change of pace. What else do you have for me?"

Hamish's heart sped up. Gladis was actually receptive to his suggestions. Should he play it safe and show her the bay windows first or take a risk and bring the flag? He decided on the latter.

"Wait here." Hamish ducked out to get a cardboard tube from the living room. Once back, he pulled out the fabric of a flag and unrolled it for Gladis."

"A rainbow flag?" Gladis looked more surprised than dismissive.

Now came the biggest gamble for Hamish. It all depended if Gladis was nostalgic but progressive or simply conservative to a fault.

"I thought it would be good for Adele to be gay." Hamish didn't even give Gladis a moment to speak up. This was his chance. He had to take it. "Adele and her YouTube channel will be like a spokesperson for Bakersville. She can show that we are modern and educated. That we go with the times. You probably know about the many prejudices that plague small towns. That we are backward and don't welcome change. Dismissive of social reform. With Adele openly gay and Bakersville accepting of it, we can show everyone how modern we are. And maybe even change the perception of all small towns to a degree."

Hamish knew he had struck gold as Gladis' smile got wider and wider as he spoke. Not morphing into an evil or dismissive smile, but a warm one.

"I haven't even thought about that!" Gladis looked contemplative for a moment and Hamish tried his best to wipe the stupid smile from his face. "Stuck in my old ways indeed, but you are right. We need the representation of gay people. Come to think of it, for other minorities too. But those can wait for future projects."

For future lives to be screwed with by Gladis, but Hamish was too excited to be bothered by it. So far, he had achieved nearly everything he had set out to. There was only one more suggestion and it was a small one compared to the others. Hamish was sure now that he could push this one past Gladis too.

"There is one more suggestion that I have," Hamish spoke up. Then quickly corrected himself. "Well, less a suggestion and more like an opportunity. Can I show you?"

Gladis was all smiles. "Sure. Go ahead."

Hamish led her back to the living room and to the small nook that was nestled against bay windows. "I saw these and couldn't help but build a small reading nook. It's perfect. So much natural light and Adele can read here or work on a laptop. Maybe even watch the folks down there if she is bored."

If Hamish wouldn't become Adele anyways, he would be sorely tempted to remodel his house a bit. Add bay windows there too. But as he was moving out, it wasn't worth the work. Not for the first time Hamish wondered if one of Gladis' future projects would inherit his house. Maybe he should spend part of his free time in the next two weeks polishing it up. Leave it in a decent shape for whoever would live there next.

"A little bit of a bookworm," Gladis commented and drew Hamish's mind back to the present. "I could see that. She'll probably make her home as cozy as possible. How is the rest of the apartment?"

As cozy as possible. Hamish never had gone for cozy. His home was functional. What he had was the bare minimum of furniture. Sure, those were comfortable, but he had never gone out of his way to add dedicated spaces just to lounge around. Not like the reading nook he had added here. Maybe Adele was already becoming a part of him. Even without magic.

"Well." Hamish cleared his throat. "I had gas and water checked. Both are fine. Got Ray to go over electric. He exchanged some switches and whatnot to make it a bit more modern. But that is all done too."

"So, everything is ready for Adele?" Gladis asked. "Perfect. Sounds like she can move in today."

"What?" Hamish grew pale. This was too early. He was supposed to have two more weeks. Time to get more used to the thought of becoming a woman. Maybe even call his niece and tell her some story about why she will never see him again. Not that he could tell her the truth. But maybe he could come up with a convincing lie that would give her closure.

"I thought I'd have more time to add to the apartment," Hamish added lamely.

"What more is there to add?"

Hamish hunted for a good reason, but all he could add was: "There is that flea market next week. Maybe I'll find something there and-"

"Hamish." Gladis had the same tone of voice as his grandmother chiding him if he did something stupid. "That sounds like something Adele could do on her own. And here I thought you'd be excited to meet her. You appeared to be so invested."

It was a little more than just meeting her. Why shouldn't he be invested when he became her? This was his future and he had tried to bend his imposed destiny more to his liking.

Before Hamish could even try to argue, Gladis withdrew fabric from her handbag. Once freed from its confines, it fluttered to the ground. Was that a scarf? A second later it became irrelevant as it was replaced by a naked woman. She appeared to be mid-twenties with an athletic build.

As she stirred and then looked around frantically, Hamish took a step back. His mind had a hard time comprehending what was happening. Her gaze found him but didn't remain there. Instead, she focused on Gladis.

"Thank you! Thank you for making me human again!"

Hamish took a further step back. He hadn't known. Like everyone else he had assumed that people who had been transformed into clothing by a fashion witch were stuck as such permanently. Yet here, right before his eyes, the truth was revealed. Why hadn't Gladis revealed as much sooner? And who was this person before him?

"Oh, sweetie. Of course. Of course." Gladis leaned down to give the woman comforting pads on her shoulder and back. "And you get to stay a human. Provided you play your part."

Hamish turned. Walked with wooden legs out of the door. He could only hear the beating of his heart and the white noise in his ears. Hamish nearly stumbled as he took the steps down.

He needed to escape.

Air.

To breathe.

A few steps out and Hamish collapsed on a nearby bench. One of his own works. Commission by Gladis. All to fulfill her convoluted plans to make this the perfect small town. His hands felt clammy and were shaking as he looked down at them. Tearing his eyes away, he looked up to the second story of the building he had just left.

There, the witch was instructing her newest victim. Normally, Hamish stayed and explained a few details. Eased the transition as best as he could. But he couldn't face her. Adele Walls. He had met her indeed. Now, he knew. It wasn't his destiny to be her. Never had been. Hamish had jumped to conclusions and now paid the price.

"I should be happy," he mumbled to himself. Wasn't that what he wanted? To remain a man. Be himself. Continue his life as he had for the last few decades. Looking forward to his retirement in a few years. So, why was he upset?

Hamish's mind went in circles. Trying to make sense of his confusing feelings. He only stopped as someone sat down on the bench beside him. On reflex, he looked and saw Gladis. The fashion witch looked concerned. Anger surged forth in Hamish, but also the urge to laugh. What a fool he had been. Hadn't he always known that fashion witches were monsters? Time and time again he had reminded himself of the fact. Yet somehow, Gladis still had fooled him. Chipped away at his perception of just how monstrous and grotesque she was.

"You look upset, Hamish. Why did you storm out like that?"

Upset? How dare she mimic compassion at a time like this? Hamish wanted to tear into her, if only with words. Yet he could not. Something prevented him from attacking her. He struggled to find words that could vocalize his anguish. None would come.

Eventually, defeated, he let his head hang. "I thought it would be me."

"Be what?"

Of course, Gladis played unsuspecting. "Adele," he pressed out. "I thought you wanted me to become Adele."

The sharp laugh of Gladis felt like yet another knife in Hamish's back. "You? Why would you think that?"

Why? In hindsight, his reasoning was flimsy. Still, Hamish couldn't help but voice it out loud. "Woodworking. It said Adele specialized in woodworking. There is only one person in this town who could fit it." He shook his head. "It never occurred to me that you could get someone from outside of town."

"Oh, Hamish. Aren't you the one always complaining about the internet as if it was the end of all decent?" When he didn't react to her humor, Gladis became more serious. "I ran into Adele - well, her previous self - two years ago. Budding YouTuber who just passed one hundred thousand subscribers. I knew he was perfect. Creative. Charming. The videos were professionally done. But that was when I just started with Bakersville and it was too early to show off to the world. So, I stowed him away."

"And now he is Adele." The very fate Hamish had tried to avoid was now bestowed on the newly made Adele. No, it was worse. So far, Hamish had always the excuse that he worked under duress. That Gladis made him do it. But not so with Adele. He had a hand in how she turned out. Her personality had been changed by Hamish's suggestions.

A few moments passed before Hamish looked at Gladis. He had to know. No one else had dared to do so before, but now, he had no choice. "Do you have a plan for me? Will there be a day when it is my turn?"

Gladis returned his gaze unfazed. Her expression was unreadable to him. "No," she eventually said quietly. "I do not."

Hamish looked away. There was his answer. Yet, why didn't he feel relieved? Hadn't he dreaded the change? Everything would stay the same. No life-altering event to throw off the trajectory of his future life path. But maybe that was the problem. In the last two weeks, Hamish had been confronted with his own life. How stagnant it had become. The change to Adele - even if unwelcome - would have been a jolt to break him free. To experience new things. Now, he had no such excuse. Could he do it on his own? Without the help of Gladis?

The fashion witch stood back up. "I need to get back to Adele. Finish her orientation and then call Mariah to get her some clothes." She walked five steps and then stopped again. Hamish heard her withdraw something from her handbag. Then the sound of paper sliding. It was quiet for a moment before Gladis held a folder into his eyesight.

"If I learned anything from this misunderstanding, then that you can do well if motivated to contribute. Take a look. See if you can fill in the blanks to my satisfaction."

Hamish felt drained. Instead of confronting her with anger - how dare she shove a new project in his face now - he took the folder quietly. Not even acknowledging the fact that Gladis walked away. Back toward Adele. The life he thought he would have.

He leaned back. No one paid any attention to him. Bakersville was a small quiet town that had a tranquil atmosphere to it. Especially since Gladis made her home here. Right now, Hamish needed it. To calm down again. It wasn't easy.

Hamish was stuck in a rut. His life was stagnant. No close friends and his only living relatives had moved away. For a long time, there only had been his work. And now? He helped a fashion witch play dollhouse with a whole town. His gaze fell onto the folder again. There was no end to it. No special plans. To Gladis, he was exactly what he needed to be. Someone following orders. And the next target, he already held in his hands.

He was tempted to head home. Postpone any glance at the next project. The next person to be doomed. Their life about to be twisted to an ideal dictated by a fashion witch. But part of him wanted to know. Needed to.

He opened the folder and his gaze failed to find any information. Each field normally filled with Gladis flowing handwriting was empty. All but one. The name of the recipient was his own.

---

Hamish stared at the paper. Nearly empty of any details. Just two weeks prior, he had done so with another one. The previous one he had mistook as a means to restrain him. Bend his life into a new shape. To make him into something Gladis would like for her perfect little town.

Now, he knew better. Yet the paper before him - with nearly every field of the form empty - somehow scared him more. Gladis had given him a blank check to rewrite his life. Provided it would get her approval. Hamish had no illusions on that part.

Hamish had dreaded the prospect of becoming Adele. But as it had been snatched away right in front of his eyes, he also had to admit that a part of him had wanted it. To be young again. Living a life full of potential. With all the doors to take still open.

He had realized that he wanted to break out. To change things up. An epiphany that hadn't come easy or painless. But the sheet of paper before him didn't just promise a little bit of change. The possibilities were endless and Hamish had to choose. The acknowledgment that he not just wanted change, but craved it was hard enough. Now, Hamish had to decide what he wanted to keep and what he wanted to have changed. There was no one to blame if he messed up. No one, but himself.

Grabbing a pencil, Hamish decided to start with the easiest fields. Under gender, he wrote in male. Because now there was no reason to subject himself to becoming a woman. He was comfortable as a man and Gladis wasn't imposing anything. So, why shouldn't he stay a man?

Deciding on a new age was a little harder. Hamish didn't want to be too young. At least drinking age. Not that he drank much anyways. Maybe a few years older. Late twenties like Latisha? For a moment, Hamish imagined Latisha flirting with him. He shuddered at the thought. Latisha was a beautiful woman, but Hamish still couldn't decouple the mental image of who she had been before. A part of him still viewed her as a mentor and wise man. Someone to head to in the need of advice.

Something in between of those for sure. Maybe twenty-four or twenty-five. For now, he penciled in the former. The occupation was another easy field to fill out. Hamish was a carpenter through and through. Woodworking flowed through his veins.

He let his fingers glide over the surface of the dining table. Wood was such a magnificent material. It could be hard and unyielding. But in the right hands, it could transform in a myriad of ways. Hamish doubted he could ever get fed up with it. Not even in two or three lifetimes. There was something visceral about it. To remove and shape it step by step. Giving it a new form and function. Not many materials were as flexible as wood. There was no other choice. In his next life, he would be a carpenter too.

Of course, he would stay in his house. Who wouldn't? And now he could realize all these small improvements he had gathered in the past weeks. Even remodel it. Now that he got to remain in his own four walls, Hamish could tackle those changes to it he thought wouldn't be able to do anymore as Adele. That should keep him busy for a year or two.

Hamish leaned back. His satisfaction of having filled out part of the form vanished as he realized most of it was still empty. Worse, what he had filled in barely had any change to it. He would be himself, but younger. Everything else might be a new year's resolution. How long would it be until he was stuck back in the same rut as he had been before? Worse was the thought that he might not even break free of it in the first place.

He needed more change, but Hamish didn't know what to add. Maybe a hobby or two. Something to motivate him and give him a reason to go out. He needed something that challenged him and would constantly offer new experiences. Yet his kind drew blanks. None of the hobbies he knew about would offer these desired perks.

Frustrated, Hanish stood up. His mind was a mess and after the tumult of today, he needed to relax. Think about something different for a change. His first impulse was to reach for the TV remote, but he hesitated. Hamish rarely watched TV and he wasn't in the mood for generic entertainment. With a bemused smile, Hamish walked to his computer and switched it on.

As much as he disliked the new medium, he had to admit that there were perks. An example was those creators that catered to a niche audience. Hamish still had a bunch of videos about woodworking and carpentry set aside. More to prepare for becoming Adele until the point got mood. Still, he was intrigued now. There were new technologies he could still explore. Maybe add a CNC router to his shop or do laser engravings.

A small part whispered in his mind that it wouldn't change anything. That even this wouldn't help him break out of his mold. For now, Hamish ignored this tiny voice and just relaxed. Watching video after video. When his backlog was cleared, Hamish simply went for the first recommended video. Then the next and next. He didn't even notice it at first, but the content shifted more and more away from carpentry. In the last few days, Hamish had shown discipline and didn't veer off-topic for long. Now, he didn't care anymore.

3D printing caught his attention. At first only how to compliment his carpentry. Sometimes, he had to wait for small parts that weren't wood to finish furniture. With a printer, he could make them himself. Faster and cheaper. Then he saw other applications and he grew more intrigued. Working in plastic certainly provided an outlet for creativity, but not the visceral feeling of shaping something with his own hands.

One wrong click and Hamish was in a video that had nothing to do with woodworking. Not even 3D printing. It was one of those dress-up videos. What was the hobby called? The title of the video reminded him that it was Cosplay. He nearly clicked away but stopped. The Cosplayer - a young woman - explained how she was about to tackle a difficult costume that would involve many different materials. Some kind of fantastical armor that would need plenty of fabric, but also foam and 3D printing.

It was the way she sketched out her project. The initial design and then the steps she needed to take to get to the end result. It reminded Hamish of his own process when he worked with wood. Step by step the costume took shape and Hamish could appreciate the methods used. He saw a little bit of himself in the Cosplayer. Her workflow was eerily similar to his own, but where he used only wood, she used plenty of different materials. That must be quite the challenge and for that, Hamish had respect.

The end product was astonishing. Hamish wasn't much of a moviegoer these days, but the quality of the final product of the cosplayer rivaled those of movies he had seen a few decades earlier. The video closed out with a gathering of Cosplayers. Hundreds of them mingled at some kind of convention. Not all came to the same quality of costume as the YouTuber of the video had achieved, but Hamish was still impressed.

In the weeks prior, Hamish had stumbled upon Cosplay before. He had thought it was a rather niche hobby. An offshoot of those people who did a reenactment of the Civil War and other historical periods. But if hundreds of people gathered in one place, it must be more popular than he thought. Intrigued, he clicked on the next video. Then another. Falling down a rabbit hole until the sun had set and tiredness forced him to stop for the day.

While making his dinner, Hamish's eyes fell upon the half-filled-out form again. Grabbing the pencil, he added Cosplay. Followed by a question mark. The hobby certainly was intriguing. Those people in the videos appeared to have plenty of fun. Even more so, it appeared to be a lot of work too. There were always new techniques and materials to experiment with. Promising that the hobby would never be stale. Hamish wasn't inclined to enjoy the social aspect, but that could be changed too.

Cosplay certainly was a contender for a viable hobby and a means to break free of his stagnant life. Provided he dared to leave it on his form and Gladis accepted it. But the prospect was also daunting. There was so much to learn that it could be overwhelming. Thankfully, he could draw upon the experience of others and vowed to do that the next day.

---

Hamish stopped his pickup truck in front of the only tailor in town. This time, it needed two whacks of the door for it to stay put. Maybe the visit to a mechanic was more prudent than a life-changing alteration by Gladis, but Hamish pushed the thought aside.

Instead, Hamish straightened his clothes and then walked into the tailoring shop. His trained eyes skipped over the fabric at first. Taking in the many shelves and tables that dotted the store. Each looked in good condition. Not that Hamish expected a lot of damage. He had made them less than a year ago.

Then Hamish took in the many materials on display. Everything was available from needlepoint to knitting utensils. Even a few sewing machines were available. Everything needed for the hobby enthusiast of sewing and related skills. And if one wasn't as gifted, one could secure the help of the shop's owner for custom clothes or alterations.

"Hamish?" The owner - a woman about twenty-seven years old - asked as she came back into the shop from the backrooms. Around her neck was a tape measure and he could see a few needles stuck into a small pillow attached to her wrist. "What brings you here? Hopefully something small. Gladis dumped a big order into my lap."

"Just came by to say hi, Mariah," Hamish was quick to assure her. "And maybe to catch up a little."

Mariah stopped spreading a cream-colored fabric on one of her tables and looked up. "Bullshit. You aren't one for talking. Even before- Well, my change." She resumed spreading the fabric and brushed out the folds. "Latisha told me about your problem. But seeing as you are here and I have a ton of work for an Adele that is not you, I assumed that had resolved itself."

Even in his advanced age, Hamish couldn't help but blush. "She told you about that?"

"Hamish. Please." Mariah gave him a suffering look before returning to her work. "Women talk. I knew that even before I became one. Let me guess. You aren't off the hook yet. So, what do you wanna know about being a woman?"

"Oh, no. It is not that." Hamish felt uncomfortable as Mariah looked at him again. "She gave me a blank form. For myself. It is up to me what she changes. Or even if I want them."

"That is-" For the first time, Mariah actually stopped her work and took a step back. "Many of us would kill for a chance like that. Well, not literally. But that is quite the break for you. How did you manage that?"

"That's complicated. When Gladis made someone else into Adele, I wasn't as happy as I should be. It was hard to realize, but I guess a part of me wanted to become her." Hamish sighed. "No, that isn't quite right. I didn't want to become Adele, but rather what she stood for. Change. A way to break free of myself. And I admitted that to Gladis. To my surprise, she offered me this blank form. Giving me a chance to change myself on my terms. With the caveat that it needs to fit Gladis' vision of this town."

Mariah nodded and took a moment to give it some thought. "So, you ain't being here for more information about women. What else is there?"

"It's about what Gladis can change. Or rather, can't. In my talk with Latisha, we guessed that Gladis can transfer knowledge. But only of which she knows herself." Hamish took a look around. Let his eyes roam over the shelves of fabric. "You didn't use to be interested in sewing. I remember that you even had trouble stuffing your socks. And now you might be the most knowledgeable person in town. That got me wondering. Just how much of that is from Gladis and how much of it is from you?"

"Yeah, I was quite helpless, wasn't I?" Mariah gave him a mischievous grin. "To be honest, I think I didn't get much knowledge from her. But that was alright. Instead, she gave me a drive. After the change, I knew she wanted me as the town's tailor. At first, I found the notion ridiculous. But the more I thought about it, the more intrigued I became. Getting where I am now, took a lot of studying and gathering experience, but I didn't mind. I actually had fun doing so. Still have."

"Wasn't it overwhelming?" Hamish asked. "To learn so much at once. To me, that sounds terrifying."

Mariah gave him a few small nods. "Sure. But that was part of the appeal. A challenge I could throw myself against. I guess that is what brings you here. After decades as a carpenter, I guess you need a new change, right?"

"No, I love carpentry," Hamish was quick to correct. Maybe a little too forceful. He sighed. A little annoyed at himself. "I've been thinking about picking up a hobby. One that will keep me occupied for a few years. Maybe even decades. Yes, something that is challenging and will keep changing." Hamish took a moment to calm down and then asked: "Have you heard of Cosplay?"

An amused snort escaped Mariah before she could stifle it. "Sorry. You surprised me. Cosplay? Yes, I heard of it. Not a hobby I thought you would choose."

"Not very Hamish, is it?" Hamish asked with a lopsided grin. "But that is the point. I've been the same person for decades. I want to change. That I realized. But if I go through with it - and lose a few decades in age - I need something to draw me out. I am not exactly a hermit, but sometimes it feels like that. Cosplay would change that. It would give me a challenge and give me an excuse to become more social again. I am just worried that I will bite off more than I can chew."

Mariah frowned. "What's so complicated? It is a hobby like every other."

"Is it? The way I see it is that Cosplay would be a lot of areas to learn all at once. It starts with sewing. Maybe some leather working. Not to mention fabricating. Foam. Plastic. Wood. There is even 3D printing. Maybe even designing with a-"

Hamish stopped as Mariah laughed out loud. "Always with the head through the wall, is it? Hamish, you don't have to do all that at once. Think about it. Most who have Cosplay as a hobby started in their teens. Do you think they had access to everything? Cosplay outfits aren't created all equal. Some - most - are made on a budget. The level of skill varies. So, don't expect to create masterpieces right from the get-go. Start slow. Work your way up. Just like everyone else."

"Yes," Hamish agreed after a few seconds. "You are right. I guess if I go step by step, it won't be too much at once either."

"So? Cosplay, huh?" Mariah asked again. "Does that mean you might become a woman after all?"

"What?" Hamish was blindsided by the question. What had given Mariah the idea that hopping the gender fence was on the table again? "Men can do Cosplay."

"Of course, they can," Mariah was quick to agree. But there was still a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Though from what I heard, they are outnumbered. It appears girls and women usually have more fun with it. You probably stumbled upon a few high-profile Cosplayers, right? How many of those were male?"

"That's nonsense," Hamish protested on reflex, but as seconds passed, he couldn't come up with a single male cosplayer he knew through youtube. Yes, he had seen plenty of male cosplayers. But usually in the background of videos when a female cosplayer visited a convention. "Maybe I need to do more research." Hamish walked toward the exit but stopped before it. "Sorry. That is a lot to think about. Thank you for answering my questions."

"You're welcome," Mariah replied with a warm smile. "And Hamish. Should you choose to make Cosplay your hobby, come by to say hi. I can probably teach you a few things."

"Thanks."

Hamish pushed out and made for his truck. His mind was a whirlwind. Mariah wasn't onto something, right? He hadn't chosen Cosplay because most participants were female. That was absurd. It would suggest that on some level he wanted to become a woman. It was exactly what he had tried to avoid the last few weeks.

He could do everything as a man. There were plenty of characters to choose from that he could dress up as. Granted, he'd probably have to watch more movies and series again. His knowledge was hopelessly outdated. And the outfits would be challenging to make too. There wasn't a reason to become a woman.

But as he arrived at his house, a single thought pushed through. But what if he chose to become one? What would change? Obviously, it would catapult him even further out of the Hamish-mold he tried to escape. But what else?

As Hamish walked into his home, Hamish was busy imagining two life paths before him. One where he stayed male and one where he chose to become a woman. Trying to guess what challenges, perks, and disadvantages had.

After half an hour, Hamish walked to his dinner table and opened up the form Gladis had given him. Most fields were still empty. Under hobbies and other interests, Hamish erased the question mark behind Cosplay. He'd probably have to split up the hobby further into distinct skills and interests. Then, his pencil turned upward. Pausing at the field for gender. After a moment of hesitation, Hamish changed the penciled-in male to female. Followed by a question mark.

"Need to do more research," he grumbled, before heading to his computer.

---

Hamish nervously nursed his coffee. Waiting in the booth Gladis preferred at Benny's Diner. He was half-minded to order something to eat his nervousness away but refrained from doing so. Gladis didn't like that. It was common courtesy to wait, she would say. Right now, Hamish needed her in her best possible mood. Deciding to take yet another sip of his coffee.

"Hamish. Good to see you."

Hamish nearly sighed in relief. Which would be a first. Normally he dreaded meeting with the fashion witch. Now, he was eager. Last week, he had done a lot of studying. Revising the form Gladis had given him again and again. It definitely wasn't blank anymore.

"Gladis." Hamish stood up and gave a tip of his imaginary hat. "Thank you for taking the time."

They both sat down and Hamish tried to patiently wait until Gladis had ordered. Meanwhile, he was so nervous that he couldn't help, but squirm and fidget in his seat.

At last, Gladis gave him all her attention. "So, you called me. Is it about the offer I made?"

Hamish gave a small nod and launched into the speech he had practiced. "I met someone. We fell in love. Now I am retiring to Florida and-"

"Hamish." His name spoken by Gladis sounded disappointed and judgemental.

He was quick to raise both hands in a pacifying gesture. Then, he withdrew the folder Gladis had given him a week earlier. Opening it up, Hamish placed a densely filled-out form before the fashion witch.

"As Bakersville needs a carpenter, my grand-niece Hanna will be taking over." To underline his point, Hamish pointed at the form again. "The official narrative will be that she used to spend every summer break with her grand-uncle - me - who taught her carpentry. Now, she is ready to take over."

"I see. That is quite the thorough backstory." Gladis gave a quick glance over the form, before looking at Hamish again. "I have to admit I am surprised. You know that I didn't intend for you to become a woman, right? I rarely change a man into one. Only if it is necessary."

"I know." Hamish bit his tongue on the topic. One could argue that the four times she had done it wasn't really necessary either, but he didn't want to ruin her mood. "The truth is, I want to become a woman. Yes, it surprised me too." Hamish took a deep breath before continuing his confession. "Once I realized it was an option, I sort of compared it to staying as a man. It is hard to explain, but when I envisioned my future it always was a bit easier to picture myself as a woman. All the details were clearer. More refined. Fell easier into place."

Hamish steeled himself and looked directly at Gladis. "The more I thought about it, the more I discovered that I already knew how it feels to live a life as a man. I've done it once and I could do so again. But as a woman, things would be new. Sure, there are probably drawbacks and things I do not know yet or failed to factor in. But even that has its appeal. It would be new and exciting. Or so I hope."

"That didn't sound as if it was hard to explain," Gladis remarked. She pulled the folder a little closer. "Let's see who Hanna would be and if I can make her a reality."

"She will fit," Hamish assured her. "Still a carpenter and-"

"Hamish!" Gladis gave him a stern look that didn't last long. "Let me read. You can comment soon enough." She took her sweet time and Hamish could see her digest each filled-out field as her finger moved with it. Then, she raised her eyebrows. "I see Hanna would fly the rainbow flag too."

"Well, yes, I-" Blood shot into Hamish's face. "I kinda felt bad because I made Adele gay for my own selfish reasons. And now I think she is the only lesbian in town. Not that I expect us to end up together or so. Just to show solidarity and maybe some companionship. Not sure if she even wants that. Truth is I have kinda avoided her since- You know."

Gladis gave him an amused smile. "You are rambling."

Hamish replied with a subdued "Sorry."

"Age twenty-two. Athletic build. Girl next door beauty." Gladis looked up at him. "Reminds me of Adele."

"Well, I am sure you can avoid making us twins," Hamish said. Followed by an awkward laugh. "I actually thought that maybe you could make Hanna of mixed heritage. Maybe a quarter of Mexican or Native American. All to become more diverse, right? Show that Bakersville is progressive. There wasn't a field for that, so I kinda hoped to find the opportunity to bring it up."

One of Gladis' eyebrows had steadily risen, but instead of commenting on Hamish's suggestions, she turned back to the piece of paper. "Let's see about hobbies and passions. Hmm, what is Cosplay?"

"Oh, that is sort of a hobby of dressing up." Hamish practically jumped at the topic. "Like they do down south for the Civil War. But for modern things like TV shows or movies. Even books and comics. It is really diverse and grows in popularity. There is this aspect of crafting your own outfits that is really neat and challenging."

Gladis tried to comment, but there was no stopping Hamish.

"I mean, it could be good for Bakersville too if we advertise it right. A lot of Cosplay is set in medieval times or in fantasy landscapes. That's ideal if we get Cosplayers to come here for meetings or photoshoots. Just imagine the exposure. If we can cater to them we will have a good flow of tourism in the town."

"I see your point!" Gladis spoke up as Hamish took a breath. "We will have to talk about details later. Let's return to Hanna for now, shall we?" As Hamish nodded, Gladis looked at the next point and immediately frowned. "What exactly do you understand by 'flexible passion for makeup'?"

"Well, some Cosplay requires makeup. Sometimes heavy," Hamish explained. "But, Hanna can't be totally into makeup. She has to be a carpenter too. Imagine if she can't live without heavy makeup and tries to get any work done. Carpentry can be messy with dust and so on."

"That makes sense," Gladis commented dryly. "Let's see. A passion for sewing and working with fabric. Minor interest in knitting, stitching, and needlework."

"For Cosplay too," Hamish added subdued.

"Of course, it is." Gladis took a second look over the form. "Certainly looks complete and just as I knew, you made an effort to make Hanna fit into the town." Gladis stopped as Hamish motioned for her to turn the page over. As she did, an "Oh, my!" slipped out of her. Half the backside of the form was written on too. "3D printing. Foam working. Plastic molding." She rattled off half a dozen other interests. "Are all these for Cosplay too?"

Hamish gave an embarrassed shrug. "It is a broad hobby."

"Let me guess," Gladis continued. "The point of 'comfortable wearing tight lacing corsets and high heels' is for Cosplay too."

He only managed a nod. Gladis started to reread the form. Flipping back and forth between the form on one side and Hamish's addendum on the backside. At last, she leaned back. After a moment, a single word slipped past her lips: "Okay."

"Okay?" Hamish repeated. "Does that mean-"

"I think Hanna could fit into Bakersville," Gladis conceded. "You did a fine job of reasoning and certainly you put a lot of thought into her. So, yes, you can become Hanna. Just tell me when it is convenient for you."

"Now," Hamish said immediately. Before he could develop cold feet. "I am ready. Everything is prepped. I even have a letter to my niece. Explaining to her why I am gone and who Hanna is. I know, I can't tell her the truth. But I crafted a convincing lie that should pacify her."

Gladis gave an amused shake of her head. "I get it. You have thought of everything. Here we go."

For a split second, Hamish felt very weird. As if the universe had decided to knead him thoroughly like bread. But the displeasure didn't last. And then, he felt different. No, she felt different. Hamish was gone. Instead, Hanna occupied the booth opposite the fashion witch. Her body felt new and strange, but also familiar. It was the oddest feeling.

"Let me take care of your clothes," Gladis remarked.

Hanna was a good few inches shorter than Hamish had been. The flannel shirt and jeans hung loosely on her new frame. Not for long as they shrunk to her size.

Looking down, Hanna found a body nearly exactly like she had envisioned. Maybe her breasts were a bit bigger than anticipated. But that was her fault. Nope. Hamish's, as he had failed to write down how well endowed she should be. Not that Hanna minded. Surely having a bit more on top would help her with sexier Cosplays.

"Thank you so much!" Hanna exclaimed while standing up and grabbing both hands of the fashion witch to shake them. "I won't disappoint you. Oh my gosh, I can hardly wait to get started."

Gladis waved her on with an amused smile on her lips. "Go. Have fun."

Hanna nearly ran out of the diner. A noticeable spring to her skip. Her head was full of ideas. The plan had been to head home. But maybe visiting Mariah was more important. Gladis had made sure that Hamish's old clothes fit her, but this was hardly how Hanna wanted to dress. Not to mention that with her well-endowed body, she needed a bra for sure. Mariah could guide her on what bra to get. But to Hanna's surprise, she already knew what to look out for when shopping for underwear.

On her way to her truck, Hanna stopped as she saw her reflection on a polished surface. Long black hair and brown eyes greeted her. Her skin tone was definitely a few shades darker than Hamish's had been. Gladis must have taken the suggestion of a mixed heritage seriously. Hanna had to ask her in the future what her exact makeup now is.

Gladis really had delivered. Hanna wasn't a knockout, but she was no plain Jane either. Instinctively Hanna knew that if she really wanted to wow someone, she could always dress up and go heavier on makeup. Her athletic form might also shine through more if she ditched her current clothes. A flannel shirt and jeans had been alright for Hamish. It was not a style Hanna could see herself in for long. She definitely had to visit Mariah first. Right after sending the important letter to her niece to explain things. Hanna wouldn't want her to worry or check in on old Hamish. For she couldn't even answer the phone if her niece called.

Hanna arrived at Hamish's old truck. It would do for now, she decided. But maybe it was time to go for an upgrade here too. Hamish really had been stuck in his ways, Hanna decided. But she felt full of energy and she couldn't wait to channel it into changing things up. It felt so great to be young again.

"Excuse me?"

The voice spooked Hanna just as she opened up the truck and grabbed the letter to her niece. Surprised, she jerked back and managed to hit her head on the roof.

Cursing under her breath, Hanna stepped away from her truck and looked at who had disturbed her. She noticed the blue eyes first. Then the cute nose and kissable lips. The blonde hair next and Hanna couldn't help herself to check out the young woman's body. She definitely liked what she saw.

"Sorry!" the woman said with a wince of empathy. "I didn't mean to startle you. I was looking for someone and now I might have you confused with someone else. I was told this truck belongs to the town's carpenter. A guy named Hamish. I have been trying to reach him for a few days now."

Hanna let out an amused snort. "Sorry. Not making fun of you. It is just, you missed him by five minutes."

"Oh." There was a brief flash of disappointment on the blond's face, but she recovered quickly. "When will he be back? Ah! Sorry." A little embarrassed, she fiddled with her hair a bit. Pushing a strand of it behind her ear. Then, she offered her hand. "I am Adele, by the way."

"Hanna." Adele's hand was so soft as Hanna shook it. "And I am afraid you have to deal with me. Hamish isn't coming back. Not ever, if I can help it. You see, he had a meeting with Gladis, the fashion witch, and I walked out."

"Oh, my! You were-" Adele had a cute blush, Hanna decided. "Then we are in the same boat. Sort of. At least, she did a fine job."

Now it was Hanna's turn to blush. She couldn't help it as Adele was obviously checking her out. Subconsciously, she mimicked Adele's gesture from before and brushed a strand of her own hair behind her ear.

"Maybe we can exchange stories a bit?" Adele suggested. "See how much we have in common. And originally I wanted to ask if I could share your workshop. I am also into woodworking. Maybe we can make a deal for it?"

Hanna swallowed hard. Adele was definitely flirting with her. And Hanna was surprisingly into it. A lot. "Yeah, I mean, I guess we can work something out between us."

"Do you have time now?" Adele raised an eyebrow and pointed behind her. "My apartment is around the corner. Talk over a coffee?"

Absent-mindedly, Hanna placed the letter to her niece on the dashboard. "Sure. I have time." As always, she slammed the door to her truck close. Not noticing that the letter fell from the dashboard and landed under the seat. No, Hanna had only eyes for the future that unfolded before her. And Adele's butt as she walked ahead.

Hanna's future definitely looked promising and she couldn't wait to explore it more. She had no doubt in her mind that it had been the right decision to leave Hamish behind. He was her past now. Being Hanna was her future. And maybe, Adele was in it too.

The end.

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Epilogue

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Monika balanced a heavy grocery bag while opening the front door to her home. She had barely slipped off her heels when a shout echoed through the house.

"Mom? You home? We need to talk."

A sigh escaped Monika. What was it this time? Would her daughter ask for another raise in allowance? Maybe she wants to have a sleepover. One thing was for sure if she'd argue for a piercing again, Monika would have to shut it down as soon as possible.

"How about a 'welcome home mom'," Monika asked as she entered the kitchen. Seeing her daughter Flynne sitting at the kitchen island and practically crawling into her smartphone. "Or a 'let me take that heavy bag for you'?"

Monika braced for a snarky retort but got something else in return. "Mom, do I have a sister?"

The grocery bag nearly slipped her fingers and Monika was quick to set it down on a nearby counter. "What? No. I am pretty sure I would know. Given that I had to give birth to another ungrateful brat. That's hard to forget."

Flynne rolled her eyes but actually pulled on her mother's arm to get her full attention. "Look!" Shoving her phone under her mother's nose. "Isn't that Gruncle Hamish's house?"

"Granduncle," Monika corrected automatically. Then took a better look. "That definitely is." She could recognize it in a heartbeat or half blindfolded. But she didn't recognize the two young women in front of it. Both were dressed up in some fantasy garb.

"You see this dark-haired one?" Flynne asked. "I found her on Instagram by chance. I thought I recognized Bakersville in some of her photos and then this." Flynne's tone of voice shifted as if afraid to be overheard. "But that isn't the strangest part. Once I found more pictures of Gruncle Hamish's house, I read through her bio. According to it, she is his grandniece. Taking over his house and shop after Gruncle Hamish retired."

"That's indeed strange," Monika admitted. Many things were in the last few years. Ever since Flynne had turned fourteen, Hamish had blocked every opportunity for them to visit him. Always citing some vague reason why it wasn't a good idea. Most of them were rather flimsy, but Monika had a hard time getting a real reason from her uncle why he avoided them. Come to think of it, they hadn't even spoken in a few months. Now there was a young woman in play that was definitely not her daughter. "Let me give Hamish a call. Maybe he can explain."

Monika fished out her own smartphone and gave her uncle a call. No one picked up for a minute. Worried, Monika glanced at the clock. It was shortly after seven in the evening. Hamish's dinner time. It was rare that he was out. Usually picking up quite fast.

"No one is answering," Monika said as she hung up. "I'll try again later."

"What if we can't reach him?" Flynne asked. "Maybe that imposter put him into a retirement home and stole his house. Or murdered him. I've seen real crime shows where-"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Monika cut her off. But it was worrisome. "I guess, if I can't reach him in the next few days, we have to take a road trip. See what is going on in Bakersville."

And find out why her uncle was trying to cut them off from his life, but Monika didn't voice that thought out loud. For now, she hoped someone would pick up soon. She didn't like the thought of returning to Bakersville. She left for a reason. But now, it appeared she had to.

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Author's note:
This story was voted for by my readers on my discord.
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