Young man in early thirties brushed off rain drops from his coat, wiped off shoes, turned a shabby copper door handle and came in a old book shop. When he went inside, his glasses immediately wept. He took them off, took out a special black hankie from an inner pocket of coat and begun to wipe them. And while his hands were wiping lenses, he narrowed his lids and looked leisurely over the shop interior.

On a half round black wood reception desk near the door were a notebook, an old lamp with fancy red cloth shade and an antiquated black telephone. The front of the desk was decorated with forged in details copper mountains that gave him a delightful feeling of melancholy. Much the same mountains were painted in the picture of terrifying jungle on the wall behind the desk. Although his eyes were weak and he had no deep experience in such things, he was sure both of them were created by great masters. In front of the reception desk, under windows stood two ordinary round red colored wood tables and a few red chairs. In the middle of tables were small lamps that looked like the lamp on the desk and a lot of scattered books around them.

All other space of the shop occupied wood bookcases that had same color as the reception desk. Each bookcase had simple copper table which contained short description about keeping on them books. Besides, in special sockets between books were installed helium lamps. They were on and soft light emanated from them, produced a feeling, that bookcases stood in hardly perceptible amber fog. That strange
feeling that seized him then he saw the fog, forced him put on the glasses to saw it well, but when he did it, there were nothing but scarce specks of dust.

He simpered, put hanging on his neck headphones in and walked to the farthest from entrance bookcase. At the beginning of the shelf he took off a bag, squatted and took out the first book in a row. The book was thin and old. The inscription on shabby cover stated: The scribble of cherubic Zunya. He opened the book, heavily read few paragraphs and replaced it. The second book was thick and no less old as previous one. The wide inscription on vivid yellow cover stated: Shi’e and her overwhelmingly supreme idiocy. When he read few pages that book, he wiped away the tear drop from a corner of the eye and laid it down on the upper bookshelf.

Three hours later he replaced an ordinary book to its place on the shelf, took off the glasses and massaged the bridge of the nose. All verified in his search books were not more than a pile of stories about bizarre and incredible weird persons. But he did not find neither an indirect reference nor covert indication on their pages. Maybe there was something useful but he did not have time to read them wholly.

When he restored his mental strength, man put on the glasses and took out the next book. The book immediately engaged all his attention. It was as cold as ice and made from strange mat violet metal wholly. On it surface were neither inscriptions, pictures, engraves nor even a little scratch. He began to experience a strange, numbing anxiety.

But there was more to come. When he tried to open the book, he went flop. He was stunned and began(bɪˈɡæn) to twirl it in search of a glue or a sort of hidden lock. He was so excited and involved with the process, that he did not notice that he was not alone anymore. He was immersed in watching pages when frightened by the red light that blinked at the corner of glasses.

Man instantly turned to the right and saw a woman. He was unable to see her face because of her thick middle long black hair neatly combed to the left side of her head, but she was tall, well groomed and judging by her hands, she was in her early forties. She collected books that were scattered on tables, picked them up and went to the reception desk. When his released from his confusing thoughts, he pull off headphones and followed her.

“Good evening! How can I help you?” she asked with a warm and friendly smile when he reached her place.
“Good evening!” he greeted her calmly and put down the book on the desk. “I want to read this book, but I have been unable to open it. Is there a trick or something wrong with the book itself?”
“There are no tricks," she replied in a confiding tone. “All you need is to point at the book with the index finger and yell out: Jam puff!“
“A jam puff?” he asked, smiling. “In a loud voice?”
“Yes, that is correct,” she replied in a factual tone. “But you have only one try!”
“Why?” he asked calmly.
“The rule,” she said and twirled a black pencil in her left hand. “The human found this book has one attempt. Neither more nor less.”
“And what if I will try again?," he asked, looking at the book.
“I have no idea,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Would you like to try?”
“I will,” he said after a short pause. “Even if this is a kind of joke, I am going to use my maiden attempt.”
“So be it!” she said smiling, and quickly slid sideways to the door. “Try a shot!”

He lightly nodded, did one step backward, pointed at the book, filled up his lungs and yelled: Jam puff!
The book made the cracking metallic sound and jumped down under his feet.
“But why the jam puff?” he asked in a hoarse voice after a few seconds of complete silence.
“Now, what was it that you were going to ask me?!” she said in a jovial tone.
“Why not?” he said sincerely, and picked up the book from the black floor. “Everything is so equal for me, but I like to know.”
“I like jam puffs,” she said with a glint in her eyes, looking at him. “They are tasty.”
“I see,” he said dryly, seized by the corner of the book and carefully opened it without any difficulty. “But why ...”
“So, she have finally encountered the ally!” she said, laughing, when she looked at the empty floor where only a moment ago was the man. “She will be happy! She will forget every twist of her melancholy!”

He stood in the middle of the gray desert with small twisted dunes. There were no sky or horizon because of low glowing violet clouds. I was the enormous gloom and empty desert. There were something wrong with that desert and especially with clouds. He raised his head and gazed at those clouds. After a while he began to feel that clouds was gazing at him intently. Then he heard a unique tremendous cracking sound.
The next moment, with a downpour of cracking explosions, clouds had been compressed right under his feet and he saw a floating column of luminous violet smoke. He lost his balance, and fell down on the coarse gray sand. He had not feared, but as it were, he did not have even the millisecond to thought about it.

The luminous column twisted and broke out a thin whirl that strike a mighty blow on the area between his shoulder blades. The floating column blew him again and again. The force of endless blows made him spin around and the spin speed was rapidly increasing at each turn. He did not feel any pain but limitless discomfort and unusual detachment. A few moments later he thought about death by exploding, but he did not explode. He just leaped in the air and flew into a cloudless pitch black sky.

At the last minute, before he disappeared in the dark, he saw momentarily the motionless violet ball and felt emanating from it a sense of piercingly farewell.

He awoke in a filled with the cold water container. He was burning with the fever and great pain in every part of his body, especially in the lower part of his abdomen. He tried to open his eyes, but failed. He tried again, but nothing changed. Then he flabbily tried to got out of the container, but something soft and strong immediately pushed him back.

“You have been bathing while the cold water did not reduce the fever and the pain in your body to nothing,” he heard an imperatively familiar woman voice. “Try to imagine yourself as a happy arctic penguin! Very happy arctic penguin!”
He tried to say something, but his thoughts were in a horrifying mess and the tongue did not obey him.
“Lin," the woman continued, ignoring his incomprehensible mumble. “I have to leave right away, but she must stay on this tub until 8 pm. After that grab her and deliver her at the place by 11 pm. Vous êtes avec moi?”[1]
“Yes, master!” he heard an assuringly unknown young woman voice. “I will!”

After a while he felt better and began to surmise that with his body was something wrong, his silent keeper finally broke the silence.
“Open your eyes,” she said in a soft and calm voice. “And enjoy that you will see!”
His eyelids slowly opened, and he instantly understood the reason why the shop woman said “she”, why he felt strange heaviness on his chest, why he was utterly sick and tired. He became a woman.

She raised up her left hand and groped her two soft and fleshy organs. After that she moved her hand below the navel and felt vivid flatness between her legs. She curled her index finger, put it the deep inside of the flesh and stirred it.
“Incredible!” she said in a whispering vibrant tone. “I found it! I finally found it!”
She was excited and inexplicably aloof. She had no worries and sorrows. She accepted his new body almost instantly, because she had lost absolutely nothing.

"He" never wanted children, but "he" wanted sex with pretty girls. "He" was able, but "he" was unable to fuck them, even if she was ugly as sin, because of various reasons. They were most often remarkably uncommon, started from "his" own stupidity and ended by cracked or broken bones. "He" tried again and again, and one fine day "he" finally understood a very important thing: "he" had fat chances to fuck an unexpectedly appeared in front of "him" a black hole than ready for anything and already spread her legs girl. "He" eat humble pie, but "he" found the way. "He" saved up a considerable amount of money and bought an ideal in form and content silicone love doll. But very soon "he" understood that "he" bough her mostly not for sex, but for aesthetic pleasure. When she thought about this, she lightly sneered at herself.

“It is time to stop mumbling and get out of the tub!” the girl said, held her up by the armpits and pulled her out from the bathtub.
“Okay,” she said dryly, when she saw tall and a quite beauty young woman with the bunny bun hair. “And thank you.”
“At your service, madam!” the young woman said in a jovial tone, made her sit up on the corner of the bathtub and wiped her up by a fluffy white towel.
“I have completely missed it,” she said in a tone of apology, when Lin helped her to stand up and she attempted a step with her right foot. “Not only my center of gravity had changed, but I was increased in high.”
“Yep!” Lin said smiling, held her by right hand. “Let's walk! But carefully!”
“Yes,” she said, and stared at her trembling legs. “I will try to control my legs properly.”

They slowly went out of the bathroom and walked to a narrow bed in a small room.
“These are your women’s clothes!” Lin said solemnly, and pointed at a big black paper packet on the bed. “I bought it specially for you! There are all you need!”
“Do you know my current sizes?” she suggested, and took a look at the packet.
“Of course I know!” Lin said affirmatively. “We have equal sizes! Do you want me to help you to put it on?”

[1] (fr.) Do you follow me?

Insanenebula

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