Ted’s eyes flickered open, the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room searing into his retinas. A chorus of beeping machines and muffled conversations surrounded him, and he felt an unsettling sense of déjà vu wash over him. He tried to push up, but the unfamiliar weight and shape of his body made that impossible.
“Ugh… where am I?” he croaked, the voice that came out was uncharacteristically soft and, if he were honest, quite unnerving.
A sharp intake of breath drew his attention to the bed nearby, where a figure lay stirring under the stark white sheets. It was then that the unsettling realization crash-landed onto him like a freight train: Ted was no longer himself. The reflection in the nearby window revealed a petite woman with long, flowing hair and delicate features—definitely not Ted, the tall, sturdy office manager who had just commented on his assistant Sandra's height just hours ago.
Instantly, memories of the chaotic fire alarm flooded back, alongside Sandra’s frustrations about her height, her wish to be taller, and their simultaneous agreement to switch places—perhaps not literally, but in spirit. That moment of shared longing seemed to crack the seams of reality and thrust them into this nightmarish swap.
Panicking, he turned to the other bed. “Sandra?” he gasped, unsure of whether the name sounded foreign or familiar when spoken from his new lips.
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