She looked better in my body than I did. She wore the curves more comfortably, ignored the rolls of fat completely, and smiled like she knew she was the most interesting person in the room wherever she went.

She makes me see that I could have lived another life, or could I?

Wouldn’t another soul have to literally embody me to make me another me?

Wait.

Where am I? Why’s it so dark here?

I see her turning toward me and smiling, she sees me, but no one else does.

She took me, and I let her have me, happily.

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I’m experiencing with different writing styles, as long as they all add up to exactly 100 words, and trying a new AI image generator to help keep looking the same around here. I hope that doesn’t steer you away from my words.