Gypsy's Blessing

Okay, so I haven't posted a new story anywhere in a long time but this one's been bumping around in my head for a few days so I decided to put in down on paper. Here's part one, and as always, feedback is appreciated.

My anger simmered as I trudged down the cracked and uneven sidewalk toward
home. The slums! Of course I had to walk through the slums to get home! Things had
been that way since we got here, so why shouldn't it stay like that?

My friend and I had moved to this city two months ago, full of the rush of
freedom that comes to young people leaving home for the first time. Unfortunately,
neither of us had found work by the end of the first month. Finally, with our savings
spent and our credit cards maxed out, I was hired by a temp agency three weeks
previously. The problem was, these jobs always seemed to be in the skids.

Which brought me back to tonight's little adventure in paradise. Jeremy, my
friend and roommate, was supposed to pick me up after work. He didn't show up though.
Nor did he answer his phone. And so, after waiting forty minutes for a ride that never
came, I'd started walking. Seven miles. It was seven miles home. Through the ghetto.

Grumbling I pressed on. I figured I'd walked two, maybe three miles so far. This
was ridiculous! It was my car! I'd lent it to him so he could look for work. All he had to
do was be at my office at five o'clock. Was that difficult? He knew where it was, he'd
dropped me off that morning!

I sighed and turned the corner onto yet another crumbling, derelict street. This
one featured decaying brownstones that were covered in graffiti. Most of the storefronts
were lit up. Apparently people did business in this neighborhood, run-down or not. As I
continued on the wind picked up and I felt a few drops of rain smacking my face. Great.
And me without a jacket. Looks like the mystery tour gets even better from this point on.

Shivering I ducked under an awning as the storm broke over my head. The rain
was torrential, washing over the street in sheets. There was simply no way I was walking
through this. I pulled out my cell phone and called Jeremy again. I got his voice mail.
"Listen you a**hole, " I shouted "I'm standing under an awning in the middle of the
fricken' hood getting soaked because your dumb ass couldn't be bothered to pick me up!
You are NEVER touching my car again! You're lucky I don't kick your butt out on the
street, it's not like you pay the rent or buy groceries or anything!" I flipped my phone
closed. It was so unsatisfying, not being able to slam it down in anger, like with a
landline phone. Oh well.

"Maybe you should come inside?" Said a heavily accented voice from behind me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin, spinning around to see who was talking. Behind me
stood an ancient looking woman, wearing a babushka and shawl over what looked to be
an old house dress.

"It is very vet out here. You should come inside, and I read for you the fortune
vell you are waiting for your friend with your car." I blinked at her. What? I looked over
at the window. 'Madame Petroffsky, Gypsy Fortune Teller' it said in peeling gold and
burgundy letters. I turned back to who I presumed was Madame Petroffsky. "Um, no
thanks. I don't have the..." I was about to say 'money', but a wave of shame broke over
me. "...time." I finished instead, after a noticeable pause.

"It is not so much money as you are thinking. I tell you vhat, for you, " she
spread her hands grandly, "is half price!" She arched her eyebrows at me as if daring me
to refuse such a generous offer. I stared at her wrinkled and lined face for a moment and
then looked back out into the storm. The street was fast becoming a canal. A clap of
thunder sounded overhead. The clouds had blocked out the last dying rays of the setting
sun. Sighing I shook my head, I was definately not going back out there. With a grand
gesture of triumph, Madam Petroffsky swept the faded wooden door of her shop open and
led me inside.

The interior of the shop did little to quell my skepticism. The place was little
more than a narrow corridor with dirty, bare brick walls. The air smelled like a mixture
of cheap incense and frying oil. The former came from a couple of censors that stood on
the card table behind which Madame Petroffsky was now seated. The latter likely came
from the restaurant next door.

In addition to the censors, the table, which was covered in a moth eaten silk cloth,
contained some mostly used up candles and a battered deck of tarot cards. She gestured
to the stool on the side of the table which faced away from the door. Sitting down my
stomach rumbled angrily.

I scowled again. If not for Jeremy I'd be sitting down to my meager dinner of
ramon, or rice, or canned spaghetti. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, eschewing lunch for
financial reasons. But instead of dinner, I got to belly up to a card table in a creepy old
shop with a creepy old fraud of a 'gypsy' or whatever.

"You are troubled." She said, breaking the silence between us. I nodded,
determined to give nothing away. "I vill help you " she went on, "I have helped many
others before you, and so I vill help you as vell. It is not for free, my help. But like I say,
it is not so much as you think." She studied my face for a moment. "I have told you half
price, but now I am thinking less than that. You are needing my help, this I can see. So
for you is... four dollars. You have this much, I think?" she arched an eyebrow at me.

I struggled to maintain my poker face. How could she know? I had exactly that
much in my wallet. 'Lucky guess.' I told myself as I reached around to my back pocket
and pulled the money out. As I passed it across the little table my stomach rumbled at me
again. I couldn't help but wonder if I would've been better off riding out the rain in the
restaurant next door. I'm sure four bucks would've bought me a serving of the deep-fried
whatever that was wafting in through the vents.

The money disappeared into the pocket of her house dress. Madame Petroffsky
closed her eyes and began shuffling the cards. She laid out a cross-shaped tarot spread on
the tabletop between us. When she was done she opened her eyes and began staring
dramatically down at the face-down cards. "Concentrate with me." She whispered. I
smirked a bit, she'd lost her accent somewhere during her 'trance'. "Now, we begin."

She reached out, turned over the first card and began studying it. I expected her to
begin predicting great fortune, or success in love or any of the standard fortuneteller BS I
was used to hearing at the booth they set up every year at the Renaissance Fair. Instead
she kept on turning the cards over in silence, pausing at each one to study it.

"Yes...yes..." she murmured quietly when she'd finished with the last card. "But
should I really..." She looked up at me and startled, as if she'd forgotten I was there.

"So..." she said crisply, resuming her corny mock-Slavic accent. "So, you are
under much stress now, I see?" she didn't wait for my response. "You have for long time
taken care of others, but now you want for others to care for you, ya?" I nodded slowly,
stunned.

It was true. I'd had fairly strict parents, plus I was the oldest of four children. I'd
been at least assisting in the care of my siblings since I was eight. And before that I'd
helped care for our numerous pets since age four. I'd been so excited to move out on my
own, thinking I'd get to take it easy, looking after just me for once, but Jeremy had kind of
flaked out on me, and now I was supporting him too. I was resentful. I wanted a vacation
from all this responsibility.

"Yes, of course this is true." she went on matter-of-factly, "Madame Petroffsky
knows this because Madame Petroffsky sees all. Now you ask: 'But vhat good is this? I
vas already knowing vhat is wrong wit me, ya?' And this is true, so Madame Petroffsky
vill also give you something to help you." She stood up, and I started to rise too, but she
waved her ring-covered hand at me, gesturing me back to my seat.

Madame Petroffsky walked through a curtained doorway at the back of her shop,
and I caught a glimpse of a sagging staircase behind it before it slid back into place. A
few minutes later she tromped back down the steps and emerged through the curtain
holding a tiny blue glass bottle covered in dust.

"You take this potion, and drink it. Vhen you do this thing, then you vill become
vhat you desire to become."

"And what is that?" I asked her.

She looked startled. "You do not know this? You vill become the thing which is
taken care of. I do not know what this thing is because it is different for everyone. For
you it will be different than for me or for him or for her." She pointed into the air,
presumably at fictitious people. "But come now, your friend will be getting you soon, so
you must now be going."

She led me to the door of the shop and saw me out onto the sidewalk, which was
heavily puddled from the rain that had apparently stopped while I was inside. The sky
was clear and the moon shone brightly. I looked at my watch. It was after seven! I'd
been in there for over an hour! I started walking again, this time more quickly than
before. I had traveled half a block when my phone rang. I answered it.

"Hey, listen man. Please don't hang up on me..."

"I'm not going to hang up on you, Jeremy, because if I did you couldn't come pick
me up so I could destroy you utterly for the complete crap you've pulled on me." I
thought I was being fairly calm, considering...

"Yeah, about that, I have an awesome reason for bailing on you. In fact I've got
some great news. I want to tell you all about it in person though, so tell me where you are
and I'll come pick you up. We'll go out for dinner and drinks. On me. Think of it as my
apology for today and, hell, the last few weeks when I've been leeching off of you."

"Jeremy, how are you going to buy..."

"Just be patient, I'll tell you over dinner. Now where the hell are you?" I told him
where I was and hung up. In less than fifteen minutes my car pulled up and I got in to see
a somewhat sheepish looking Jeremy grinning at me like an idiot. (did I say like an
idiot?).

He took us to a fairly decent steakhouse and after we'd got our first drink and
appetizer my patience wore out. "Well, are you going to tell me where this money's
coming from. And why you couldn't pick me up on time?"

He looked down at the table for a minute and when he looked back up he was
blushing. "I got a job. It pays really well, in fact I got a five hundred dollar hiring
bonus."

"That's awesome! Why the hell are you embarrassed? That's a perfectly good
reason for being late!"

"Thanks. But...well don't laugh, but it's kinda embarrassing, what I'm doing."

"What are you a man-whore or something?"

He laughed. "No, not that bad. I...I'm selling baby stuff. Like for corporate
accounts. You know daycares and stuff? I sell diapers and cribs and clothing and toys.
In bulk."

I grinned at him, but to my credit I didn't laugh. "Well...I guess it pays the bills,
but damn Jeremy. You couldn't find a less manly job." He nodded, grinning too.

After dinner we had more drinks. And then some more. And then, just for fun,
we drank some more. I vaguely remember getting undressed before crawling into bed
and finding the little glass bottle in my pocket. "Madame Petroffsky knows all!" I
laughed to myself as I downed the bitter liquid, not really expecting anything to happen.
Yuck, it was foul stuff.

"What did you just say?" Jeremy asked from the doorway. He'd been walking
past my room on his way to the toilet.

"Nothing, I'll tell you the story another time." I climbed into bed and passed out.

Poco, this is fantastic! I can't wait to see what happens next! (Well, I have an idea what's going to happen, but I wanna see how it all works out )

That-was-brilliant!

From a writer-wannabe to a writer, that was an awesome beginning. You captured the mood of the situation really well and the subtle wording was genius. I could rant on and on about what I liked but I think I best keep this short. Heh heh.

I think we've got ourselves another great story here, folks!

Hey! Thanks for the nice comments guys. I've got an update already.

I dreamed I was standing back in front of Madame Petroffsky's shop. The rain was
whipping around me soaking me to the skin. Cold and wet I started pounding on the
door, only to hear Petroffsky's voice, the real one, not the fake accent, call out to me;
"No! There's nothing I can do! The storm has started, you'll just have to ride it out!" Her
words chilled me to the bone for some reason.

I awoke still feeling cold and sick. Seeing the daylight streaming through my window I
sat up and immediately regretted it. My head was pounding and my stomach churning.
Ugh, why had I drank so much?

Suddenly something else came to my attention: my sheets were soaked. Oh, crap, I guess
I drank more than I thought last night. I quickly scrambled out of bed and looked down at
my soaked pajama bottoms. I pulled them off and got dressed, shutting my bedroom door
on the way out. Jeremy had been my best friend since forth grade, but I still shudder to
think of the amount of flak I'd catch if he found out I'd wet myself.

Jeremy was in the kitchen, already dressed for work. He was chasing a couple of aspirin
with some OJ, telling me he felt as great as I did after last night's festivities. He was
wearing a tie and a sport coat with too short sleeves.

"Nice look, diaper salesman." I kidded him, "When was the last time you wore that
jacket? Junior prom?"

"No, I think it was that date with your mom, remember?" He shot back, "But look who's
talking, you look like crap."

"Feel like it too." I admitted, "I don't think I'm gonna call for work today." My temp
agency had everyone who wanted work call in each morning to get placed.

"Yeah, why don't you take the day off, you've earned it." Jeremy said seriously. "You've
been pulling us both for a while now."

"Thanks, dear." I said sarcastically, grinning at him.

"Don't get used to it, jerk." He came over and playfully punched me on the arm. "You'd
still better make rent this month."

I opened my mouth to reply, but Jeremy was making a grossed-out face at me. "Jeez,
dude. I don't remember what you drank last night, but it must've been bad. You smell
like stale cat piss, man. Go shower or something."

I felt my face flushing and struggled to retain composure. I turned to Jeremy, who was
walking to the front door.

"Oh, and get a shave too, that beard look isn't working for you. By the way, if you're not
going in I'm gonna take your car. See ya."

I was about to protest, but the door shut in my face. God, I'm gonna kill that guy.

I knew I'd have to drag by bedding down to the laundromat, but I just couldn't face it yet.
Besides, I'd better shower off since I apparently 'smelled like stale cat piss' as Jeremy had
so colorfully put it. I trudged down the hall to the bathroom.

I stopped at the medicine cabinet before getting in the shower to take a couple of aspirin.
I washed them down with a shot of Pepto. Mmm, breakfast of champions. Glancing in
the mirror I saw what Jeremy had been talking about; my face was covered with a thin
layer of hair. That was odd, I'd shaved yesterday morning. This kind of growth was more
than my usual five o'clock shadow. It looked like a few day's worth.

Looking closer I saw it was also gray. Now I'd been under stress lately, but still, I figure
I've got a good quarter century before I get distinguished gray hairs in my beard. I shook
my head in bemusement, which made it hurt more. Groaning I climbed into the shower.

My fifteen minute shower only ended when the hot water did. Stepping out I felt a lot
better, and was ready to schlep my fouled bedding on down to the corner laundry. I
silently cursed Jeremy once more for taking my car. Dragging one's pee-soaked sheets
through the neighborhood was not good for one's ego.

But since sleeping in pee soaked-sheets was even worse I went back to my room to strip
my bed. I was hit by the smell immediately, and had to concede that Jeremy was right.
Now, I've changed the diapers of my two little sisters and one little brother, and I've also
changed thousands of dirty litter boxes and animal cages, so I'm a bit of a pee aficionado,
if you will. And this particular odor was closer to cat pee than human. It had that
concentrated, acidic smell to it.

Shaking my head in disgust I began to pull the sheets off of the mattress. I wondered
about the potion Madame Petroffsky had given me. Had she made me sick? No, there
was maybe two ounces of liquid in that bottle. Most likely I'd drank way too much and
then let the pee sit in my bed for too long (well, any amount of time is too long, but you
know...). When I had finished I propped my mattress against the wall, sprayed it with
Lysol, and then turned my fan on it to help it dry. Jeez, lesson learned: when getting
ridiculously drunk, stop at the bathroom on your way to where ever you're planning to
lose consciousness.

I stuffed my sheets in the bottom of my hamper and buried them under some other dirty
laundry so they wouldn't stand out on my walk over to the laundromat. I looked around
for some quarters for the washers but I had apparently spent my change elsewhere. Damn.
And I'd spent my last four bucks at Madame Petroffsky's last night. Maybe Jeremy had
some money.

I shuffled into his room to raid the jar of change he kept on his dresser. As I went in I
reflexively ducked under the hanging lights he'd put up on his ceiling. Jeremy was a few
inches shorter than me so he never hit them, but I always bumped my head.
This was odd, though. Standing up to full height I found that I didn't brush them
anymore. What was going on?

Shaking my head for the umpteenth time that morning I pushed the nagging thoughts to
the back of my mind and walked over to Jeremy's dresser. Sure enough, he had several
dollars worth of quarters in his jar which I liberated as rent for his always jacking my car.

The day was beautiful, and I found myself actually somewhat grateful to be walking
instead of driving, even under the circumstances. The hamper was heavy though, and by
the time I'd arrived at the laundromat I was sweaty and tired. I dumped everything,
clothes, sheets and all, into one of the big commercial washers and plugged in a couple
bucks worth of ill-gotten quarters.

I sat down on one of the hard plastic seats and waited for forty five minutes to pass so I
could toss my stuff in the dryer. Normally I ran next door to get a sandwich at the deli
while I did this, but my stomach protested the idea. Besides, I didn't fancy the idea of
paying the deli owner in quarters. Instead I drifted into a doze.

I was dreaming again. This time I was surrounded by my younger siblings. Somehow, all
three of them were babies at once. They scampered around me laughing and playing.
Running around with them was the menagerie of pets we'd had growing up. Puppies and
kittens and rabbits and a few less common animals too. I felt completely at ease with
them. I heard Madame Petroffsky's voice repeating what she'd told me at my reading:
"You vill become the thing which is taken care of." Next thing I new I had shrunk down
to the size of my siblings and pets. I wasn't bothered by this at all, though. I simply
joined them in playing.

I snapped awake suddenly. I felt an enormous pressure on my bladder and squeezed it
back. Getting up, I hurried to the bathroom in the back of the laundromat to relieve
myself.

Walking back home after I'd finished my laundry I was considerably less cheerful than on
the way out. That had been a near miss, and I had the quarter-sized wet patch to prove it.
I shuddered to think what would have happened if I'd peed myself in the middle of a
public place like that.

"Hey man, not working today?" A voice intruded on my thoughts. It was Paul, my
downstairs neighbor. Paul was a stoner who delivered Chinese food for a living.

"Oh, no. I had some things to do." I lied. I didn't really feel like trying to carry on a
conversation with Paul, which could be an ordeal even when he was sober, which he
didn't appear to be.

"Dude, I love your beard. How did you get that stripy thing in there. That's awesome." I
blinked at him. Stripy thing?

"Umm...Paul? I've gotta go. I need to...hit the can. Bye." I hurried off, heading for the
bathroom mirror. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what I saw.

Sure enough, my 'beard' had filled out in the two hours or so I'd been at the laudromat.
my chin and cheeks were covered with soft, gray hair. And, as Paul had pointed out,
there were narrow stripes of darker gray going up my cheeks. I stared mutely.

Paul hadn't seen me in a while, and apparently assumed I'd grown it out and dyed it. Why
he thought I would do that is anybody's guess, Paul's always been an oddball. Jeremy
would know better. He'd want an explanation. Hell, I wanted an explanation. I ran to the
kitchen to find our phone book.

There was nothing. I looked under 'fortune tellers', 'psychics', 'tarot', even 'new age'. No
listing. I even looked up 'Petroffsky' in the white pages. Nothing. I debated going back
over to her shop, but decided against it. Finally, I went back to the bathroom to see the
extent of these changes.

I stripped off my clothes. The odd gray hair on my face was beginning to show itself on
my chest, arms and legs. It wasn't nearly as thick there yet, but was clearly visible. The
chest hair was lighter gray, almost white, and lifting up my chin I saw that the hair on the
underside was likewise a lighter shade.

I was also noticeably shorter. I couldn't be sure, but I'd guess three or four inches at least.
I wasn't sure what was happening here, although I had my suspicions. I needed to talk
this out, so I sat down and waited for Jeremy to get home.

Oooh! Oooh! I can see where this is going!

Anyways, once again, it's really well done. I can't really criticize anything so... keep it up! I love it!

Yep, still loving it! I love the very gradual transformation, and I can't wait to read more!

Here's another bit. Shorter this time:
.............................................................................

Throughout the afternoon I did various things to kill the time. I cleaned the apartment,
watched some horrible daytime TV and halfheartedly read a book. I couldn't help
heading to the bathroom every hour or so to check the progress of the changes I was
undergoing.

By the time I heard the door opening five hours later, I had lost several more inches of
height and was sporting gray striped fur ( and I had to concede it was fur, not hair) all
over my body. When Jeremy entered I was making a pot of pasta and some garlic bread,
more to distract myself than out of hunger.

"Damn, that smells good, since when do you coo...WHAT THE F**K?" Jeremy
dropped his bag and gaped at me. Frankly, I had been expecting a worse reaction, he took
it rather well I think.

"Hey...I need to talk to you about something." I said calmly, trying to ignore the
slightly higher pitch in my voice.

Jeremy continued staring, openmouthed. "Um...here. Take some spaghetti and
let's go sit down." I pressed on, trying to keep my voice normal. Jeremy took the plate I
was passing to him and turned toward the couch.

I followed, and sat in the armchair opposite him. We stared at each other for
several more minutes.


"Uh, not to sound stupid, but you ARE my roommate right? I mean, you sorta
look similar but..." Jeremy said finally.


"But your roommate doesn't have fur?" I ventured.

"Yeah, that. I'd say that's a great costume, but you look a lot shorter too." he
trailed off looking confused and more than a little scared.

"Listen, calm down for a minute. I need to tell you some things." He continued
gaping while I told him the whole story of Madame Petroffsky, including the
embarrassing bits about my bed and the laudromat. When I'd finished he stared at me in
silence again.

"Well? Don't you have any input on this?" I demanded, completely frustrated.

"Sorry," he said quietly, "It's just...this is kinda my fault isn't it? If I had picked
you up on time..."

I didn't respond. I'd been hating myself for thinking the same thing all day.

"Maybe we should take you to a doctor or something." He suggested.

"Yeah, or maybe a vet." I said sarcastically. "Come on, Jeremy. What would we
say? 'Hey, got anything that'll cure a Gypsy's curse?' I'd be a freak. They'd probably
stick me in a lab or something." I shook my head. "No, I want to ride this out. It can't be
permanent, right?" I looked up hopefully at Jeremy for agreement.

"I don't know..." he said "I think you're wrong about this being a curse though. I
think she was trying to help you out."

"HELP me? How the hell does this HELP me?" I practically screamed.

"Well, you said the potion was supposed to 'make you that which is cared for'
right?"

"Something like that..."

"And what do YOU care for? Children and animals. Right?" he continued.

"I guess..."

"So, you're becoming what you care for."

I looked down at myself. I didn't look like anything I'd ever cared for, that was
for sure. I didn't say as much to Jeremy though, he had finally calmed down enough to
speak coherently and I didn't want to jeopardize that.

We sat in silence for a long while, halfheartedly picking at the food I'd made.
Jeremy kept looking up at me and then turning away when I met his gaze. When we'd
both finished eating he cleared the dishes and then sat back down.

"I still think you should see a doctor, you know." I started to reply but he held up
his hand. "You don't know what this Petroffsky woman gave you. You can't even really
be sure she's behind this. I mean, come on, a gypsy spell? Maybe that's all a coincidence.
The point is, you need to figure this out. I can't make you do anything, but you can't live
like this forever. You can't even go outside looking like you do. I don't mind supporting
you for a while, I owe you anyway. But eventually you're going to have to do something
about this condition."

I nodded grudgingly. I hated to admit it but Jeremy was talking sense. He got up
and went into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. I sat there for a while longer,
thinking about all of this. I still thought waiting it out for a bit seemed like a good idea.
Jeremy had agreed to support us for the time being, and from what he'd told me last night
his new job would pay more than enough. Hopefully this curse or spell or whatever
would pass in a few days. If not, well, we'd cross that bridge when it came.

It's going as strong as ever! Woot! Keep it up! Looking forward to the next part!

So, it's been forever since I've updated this story. Sorry about that. I know storyteller ADD is super annoying, and I try to always finish what I start. Anyways, here's another chapter:
..........................................................................

I lay in bed for a long while before sleep took me. I wasn't totally sure what I was
becoming, but Jeremy's words had echoed my own thoughts. I was "becoming what was
cared for". Subconsciously, it seemed, I was resenting my younger siblings and even my
pets for taking my time and energy my entire life. Now I wanted someone to treat me
similarly, so I was letting myself become them.

Is that really what was happening? I was becoming some kind of child/animal
composite? Was that what Madame Petroffsky's misguided spell was designed to do? It
seemed so farfetched.

I must have fallen asleep while mulling over these thoughts, because the next
thing I knew I was waking to someone knocking on my bedroom door. Opening my eyes
I saw sunlight streaking in through the window. For a few precious seconds I didn't
remember anything about the last few days, I just lay there looking at the specks of dust in
the sun beam.

But the pounding on my door began again, so I sat up to answer, and immediately
felt the dampness around me. It all came flooding back and , looking down at myself, I
saw my fur had thickened considerably overnight. I groaned aloud and slipped quickly
from between the sodden sheets.

"Hey, you alright in there?" I heard Jeremy's voice calling through the door.

"Yeah. Hang on a sec." I called back, immediately noticing the higher timbre of
my voice.

I cast about for a dry change of clothing. Grubbing through a pile of clothes on
the floor of my bedroom, I dragged out a fairly clean shirt. Pulling it over my head, it fell
to my ankles. I paused for a moment, looking down at the hem of my shirt, dangling
inches above the floor, just over my...paws?

But Jeremy was waiting, apparently worried about me. I opened the door a crack
and slipped out before he could see into my room. He wasn't fooled, however. The
moment I stepped into the hall his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Happened again, huh?" he asked, looking me over and taking in the changes one
night had wrought. I crossed my arms and looked away, embarrassed. Damn fur. It had
held the dampness close to me. Looking down I saw the front of the shirt I'd put on only
moments before was spotted with wetness from rubbing against my belly.

"Hey, hey. Don't pout. I wasn't making fun of you. Why don't you take a bath or
something? I'll go get us some breakfast. We don't have anything in the house." Jeremy
walked off, grabbing my car keys off the end table. I almost protested his taking my car
yet again, but what was the point? I couldn't drive it, and he was now the only one
working.

Still, it seemed he was talking to me in an odd fashion. Don't pout he'd said.
Why don't you take a bath? He'd spoken to me the way you'd talk to a child. Bath, not a
shower. Little kids who wet their beds don't take showers. Don't pout. Had I been
pouting? I had to admit that I had.

I headed for the bathroom to take my roommate's advice. I'd shower though, not
bathe. I still had some tiny amount of dignity left.

I had to crawl onto the counter to look at myself in the mirror. I was hardly better
than half my previous size. Pulling off the shirt I saw my entire body was covered in gray
fur. The stripes I had noticed on my face yesterday now went down my back and the
outsides of my arms and legs. My underbelly was a lighter, ash gray color (it was also
wet and matted, I noticed with embarrassment). Where before there had been human
features on my face, now there were none. I had a muzzle and slitted, cat's eyes. I also
had pointed ears. It seemed the transformation was nearly complete. Sighing, I slid off
the counter and stepped into the shower.

I was halfway through washing it when I first noticed I had a tail. I stared at the
appendage for a long moment. It twitched in my hand as I looked at it. I concentrated on
moving it and it responded accordingly. Shaking my head in bemusement I turned off the
water and got out of the shower.

As I dried myself off (an activity that now took quite a bit of time) I wondered
why it was that of all the changes wracking my body, the growth of a tail seemed the
strangest. Here I was: tiny, furry, feline, quickly losing continence. I sighed again.
Hopefully this would all pass.

Nice!

Ugh, this so makes me want to finish up the first part of my story but ugh... a writer's block is such a difficult thing to deal with.

Keep it up, Poco!

Great story, Poco! Please keep on writing!

And a little bit more...
..............................................................

When I was reasonably dry I brushed out my fur, which was matted and sticking
up at odd angles. Damn, what an ordeal. No wonder cats don't like getting wet. I left the
bathroom and walked down the hall, not bothering to cover up with a towel since my new
body had fur all over anyway. Jeremy wasn't home yet, so I pulled another semi-clean tee
shirt on and went to the living room to wait.

After a few minute's time the door opened and Jeremy came in with a bag of donuts and
two coffees.

"Hey, kid. You getting hungry? I got us some..."

"Knock it off, Jeremy. It's not remotely amusing." I snapped, cutting him off.

"Hey, calm down! What the heck are you talking about?"

"I mean the whole 'talking down' thing. You've been treating me like a kid all
morning!" I shouted at him, noticing the slightly whiny tone of my voice, "All this 'hey
kid' and 'stop pouting' nonsense. It's getting on my nerves. Maybe you think it's cute
but..."

This time Jeremy cut me off; "Listen. I've barely spoken to you today. If I'm
coming off condescending, I'm sorry. But you have to admit you're acting the part. You
wet your bed..."

"I couldn't help it." I interjected, hating the still whiny tone of my voice.

"Fair enough. But you ARE pouting. You're doing it right now. And, to be
honest, something about you seems to elicit...I don't know...parental feelings in me." He
turned his face away, embarrassed.

I laughed at that. "Parental feelings, huh? Are you my mommy now, Jeremy?" I
laughed even harder.

"Shut up, dick!" He said, tossing a donut at me and hitting me in the forehead.
He was grinning now too, though. "Seriously. You look like a kitten that's been taught to
walk around on two legs. I don't know whether to mother you or sell you to the circus."

I choked on my coffee I was laughing so hard at this point. Leave it to Jeremy to
joke about something this dramatic. We finished our donuts and coffee (Jeremy
apologized profusely that the bakery didn't have Purina filled crullers that morning) and
then Jeremy left for work. I was still smiling when I got up from the couch and noticed
the damp spot where I'd been sitting. My good mood evaporated quickly. 'I'm going to
have to do something about this. Soon.' I thought sourly as I sprayed fabric cleaner on
the cushion and went to my room to scrounge my third shirt of the morning.

As I restlessly wandered the apartment that day, I realized just how serious my
position had become. My room stank like pee, but I couldn't take my sheets down to the
laundromat because I couldn't even step outside. I stripped my bed and washed the linen
in the bathtub, then hung the sheets to dry on any available surface. When my shirt
turned up wet again, I told myself that I'd just splashed myself while doing the laundry.
Nevertheless, I tossed it into the tub with the other two, being careful not to smell it as I
pulled it off.

Another problem was food. As Jeremy had pointed out, we had none in the
house. When lunchtime rolled around I couldn't run out and get something. No
groceries, no takeout, not even delivery. I couldn't let anyone see me. I sat on the couch
and pouted some more, but for some reason that didn't produce any food either.

So instead of eating I flipped on the TV. We hadn't been able to afford cable, so
we got all of seven channels. I skipped past the soaps and talk shows, but paused at PBS.
I was drawn in by the cartoon they were showing. Next thing I knew I was curled up on
the couch transfixed by programming aimed at preschoolers.

When the front door opened, I jerked out of my daze to see Jeremy standing there
staring at me with amusement. "Mff smf mmm..." I stated as my eloquent explanation of
my choice of programming. Perhaps if I removed my paw from my mouth...

"What was that you were saying this morning?" Jeremy asked with a grin,
"Something about being treated like a child?"

"Bite me." I replied, holding up my soggy middle digit.

"I would, but I don't care for your marinade." He deadpanned, pointing to my
midsection.

I moaned with frustration before I even looked down at the damp couch
underneath me. Feeling on the verge of a meltdown, I buried my face in the pillow I'd
been laying on, not wanting to look at Jeremy. Maybe he'd go away if I ignored him.

"Listen, I think I have a solution for your problem." Damn. He was still here.

"Oh?" I asked, my voice muffled by the pillow, "Did you learn a counterspell that
will turn me back to normal? I didn't know they taught magic to diaper salesmen." I had
to admit I was being a jerk, but hey, I was really embarrassed. And really tired of being
wet.

"Cute. But as it happens I did pick up the solution at work." I heard something
land on the couch next to me. I didn't even have to open my eyes. I knew what it was
without looking.

I looked anyway. Jeremy had brought home a packet of diapers. I glared at them
for a few seconds. When that didn't help, I glared at Jeremy instead.

"They may not be your size. I wasn't sure. I'm still kinda new at this." He
seemed appropriately embarrassed. I continued glaring.

"Listen. I was just trying to help you out. If you want to sleep in pee, that's your
business. It'd be nice if you kept off my couch though." He said waspishly, apparently
angered by my reaction.

I sighed and looked down, defeated. It's hard to stay on your high horse when
you're laying in a puddle of your own urine. "Sorry." I muttered.

"It's cool. Just be careful, that's all. I can't afford new furniture. He knelt down
by the couch and looked at me closely. "You were asleep, right? I mean, this isn't
happening during the day?"

I debated telling the truth for a split second. Part of me wanted his sympathy and
help. But a greater part of me wanted to spare a few tattered scraps of my dignity. "No...I
mean yes. What I mean is I was asleep. There was nothing on TV, so I fell asleep
watching this." I gestured toward the cartoons that still flickered on the television.

He seemed to accept that. At least, he got up without saying anything else and
went to his room to change out of his work clothes. With a sigh, I gathered up the packet
of diapers and went to my room to change too.

Hey, so this isn't an update. I just wanted to say I'm not abandoning this story, I just have a bit of a block with it right now. I know how I want it to end, I just don't quite know how to get from here to there. I'll hopefully figure it out but until then this story's on hold. Sorry.

Take your time, Poco! There's no hurry, I'll just look forward to the next part whenever it pops into your head.

Wow! A mere two and a half months later I have an update! Only a short one, though. I'll continue to chip away at this when I have time, but I've got a lot of other writing projects at the moment so no promises. Enjoy!
..............................................

After changing Jeremy and I ordered in for supper. While we ate he regaled me with
stories of the world of commercial baby products, which seemed to center around the
pretty, young woman who was training him (at least his version did). I contributed little
to the conversation, partly because I had done nothing I cared to talk about that day, and
partly because I was concentrating hard on not having another accident. After a few
agonizing minutes of debate I'd decided not to try the diapers until that night. I was sure
Jeremy would notice if I walked around the apartment in them, even if they were under
my now baggy, ankle-length shirt.

When we were done eating, Jeremy announced he was going to the grocery store
for some essentials. "I don't have the money for us to keep eating out like this." he
explained, "Why don't you clean yourself up and watch some TV or something?" He had
an amused smirk on his face.

Clean myself up? I quickly checked; nope, still dry. Puzzled I went into the
bathroom to see what he was talking about.

My face was covered with the seasame chicken we'd had for dinner, as was my
shirt. I hadn't even noticed. There was sauce in my whiskers and around my muzzle.
Ugh. I tried to tell myself I just wasn't used to eating with this anatomy. I had fangs for
Christ's sake! But I couldn't quite convince myself.

I cleaned up the best I could without taking another shower. It was just too time
consuming washing all that fur. I also sat on the toilet until I'd peed. It felt odd, sitting
precariously, about to fall in. The trouble was, I could no longer reach it while standing.

Little else happened that night. Jeremy returned with the groceries and we
watched some TV. Before bed I grimaced, and donned one of the diapers. It had to be
slit in back to accomodate my tail, but otherwise Jeremy had guessed well, it fit. At least
I wouldn't have to wash my sheets for the third consecutive day.

Another morning dawned, this time without any banging on my bedroom door. I
lay in bed, at peace. Something was odd, though. The sun seemed brighter than usual. I
glanced at my bedside alarm clock: it was after ten! I hadn't slept this late in a long time.
I quickly calmed down. What was the point of getting up early? I wasn't going
anywhere.

I patted my midsection. The diaper was swollen. Sighing, I rolled out of bed.
The sheets were dry. That at least was a plus.

I slid the diaper off and toddled into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror.
I was understandably obsessed with the changes wracking my body. This time there were
none. I looked pretty much like I had the night before. Smiling at the thought that at
least the first part of this insanity was done with, I turned on the tap and began cleaning
myself up.

Great stuff, Poco! I've just re-read the whole thing as a bedtime story, and I really do love it! I can't wait for more!