I ran my hand down the side of my waist.  Not an ounce of fat remained.  My calves were pronounced, carefully dressed with golden laced black nylons.  My shoes were also black with gold streaks running through them.  My skirt fit tightly again my firm thighs and buttocks, the smooth leather caressing my skin.  My old sweatshirt had become an angora sweater embroidered with cold sequins which outlined the face of a panther.  My chewed up nails were transformed into long golden weapons filed to a point.

It had all just happened.  Just as I had stoop up.  It was like magic.  It was magic.

As I made my way out of the library, all eyes remained on me, following me through the doors.  I stopped in front of one of the door windows and stared at my reflection.  My face was the same, save for the wrinkles.  My hair was shining as it never had before like long gold strands carefully combed in gentle waves.

‘I must be dreaming,’ I thought.  It was the only plausible explanation for this.

A black limousine pulled up next to where I was Standing.  A tall man in uniform stepped out.

“Miss LaPointe?”

I looked at him curiously.

“That’s me” I responded.

“You requested that I pick you up at two thirty.”

“I did?”

“Do you not remember, Miss?”

“Not really, but that’s okay.”

I stepped into the stretch, feeling rather odd.  This was too confusing for me to ask questions.  I wouldn’t have know where to begin.

The chauffeur drove up a long driveway to a huge mansion.  He stepped out and walked over to open my door.  As he helped me get out he asked, “will you be needing the car later, Miss?”

I decided to play along.

“No thank you Charles,” I said.

“It’s Jim, Miss.”

“I’m sorry.  My memory fails me.”

As I walked up the steps to the door, a butler appeared on the steps.
Did you find the information you required, Miss?” he asked in his Irish accent.

“I believe I have.”

“Very well then, the den is set up as you like it.  There will be no calls for you today, as you requested earlier.”

“Thank you,” I replied, not sure what to make of it all.

I entered the house, temporarily paralyzed by the magnificence before me.  I didn’t know how I was going to get away with this.  I had no idea where any of the rooms were.  The only solution was to inspect the place and familiarize myself with it.

As I walked about, I was fascinated with each and every room.  Hand carved ceilings, mahogany walls, oak bookcases in the library.  There were ten rooms in the upper floor, every one as beautifully decorated as the next.

… to be continued

(copyrighted 1987)

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