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If there was some little clue lodged in my mind about whathappened the night of the transformation I wanted to get it down onpaper. Tomorrow I would buy a computer and the internet and I would beginto research The Dragons, Farm-Girls, gender transformations and possiblecures. This world was a lot scarier place now that I know magic exists.I sat down at my work desk in the lounge room and opened a blanknotebook. I wrote down today's date and a short simple sentence on thefirst page. "You will solve this," it now read. It was an inspiring andhopeful message, hurt only by the fact my handwriting was now decidedlycute - curly and rounded letters was now how I expressed myself, althoughfortunately the 'i's were dotted with dots not love hearts. At least myhand had all my fingers, unlike my old hand towards the end. Undeterred Iopened to the next page and began to write every detail that I couldremember. I wrote about what happened, when I thought it was, a vagueapproximation of where and. Finally, Michelle managed to whisper, through her trembling lips, "I love you, daddy." At the same time, she allowed her shield of the blanket to be lowered.Al's eyes swallowed his 14-year-old daughter in her nightgown. Afraid that his voice would betray him, the best that he could do was to nod to acknowledge the youngster, and then he lowered himself down and sat on the side of the bed, alongside of Michelle.Still their eyes nervously moved. Ever so slowly, he reached his hands to the opening of her nightgown; her eyes followed. When his shaking fingers grasped the dainty material, his eyes searched desperately in hers for some sort of a sign.Michelle barely managed to nod, giving her father the okay to do what he wanted. He then pushed the nightgown back over her shoulders and arms. His daughter was naked underneath. Then he moved even closer; slowly lowering his head. For the first time in his life he was about to kiss his own daughter, in more than a fatherly way. He saw the fear.
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