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Bacon. Oh Emily had forgotten bacon. She had added ham to her omelet but had totally forgotten the quintessential pig dish. Maybe she would have a BLT for lunch. She had never had one before and they seemed popular. Some other students were enjoying her food. Emily was glad she could still cook. She had always enjoyed being in the kitchen, even long after she had died. But had always had this slight fear in the back of her mind that food had changed in flavor and the recipes she once knew no longer tasted good. But after sampling her pancakes and omelet, that fear subsided. Her new stomach was starting to feel uncomfortable. She was eating too much. With a heavy sigh, she pushed her plate away. She wanted to keep eating.

Emily finally looked up from her plate and saw herself standing in the doorway. How long had she been there? The dead girl in front of her was in the same clothes she had picked out the night before. They were a little rumpled, maybe from falling or climbing. Emily felt a little violated. What had this young girl been doing, exactly, in her body? “Er, hello.” She stood up and crossed over to herself. She thought of extending her hand, but for some reason it felt awkward. “Sorry. I haven’t eaten in decades. I just wanted to see what it was like, is all.” She wiped her mouth from any crumbs that may be lingering.

“My name is Emily.” Emily went back to the table and started getting rid of the dirty dishes. She went to the sink to rinse everything before putting it in the dishwasher. “Do you know anyone who may know what is going on?”

“Hello? Is anyone there?” She heard her voice say a mild explicit statement on the other end. It was interesting to hear herself without an accent. She sounded nice over the phone. “Yes. It’s all quite a shock. Now hurry back please. Maybe we can get this sorted out. But it seems like this is happening all over wherever I am right now. Others are freaking out over here. Anyway, see you soon.”

Emily hung up and looked around the room. She should probably get dresses. The girl rifled through a drawer and picked herself out some underwear. Is this all that modern women were wearing these days? How were things kept in the shape it should be? Well I guess these two small garments would have to do. She looked through the closet, looking for the most modest of clothes. Luckily, this girl had a few. She picked out a long sleeve shirt and slacks. Clothes were so much softer now. Jeans felt strange. She didn’t like them.

Now to the W.C. to make her face presentable. In her own body, her makeup was very important to keep herself from looking dead. But this face had color to it. And it was younger. So all Emily did was put a little eyeliner and some color on her cheeks and lips. She brushed her teeth first. The flavor was strong and stung her nose.

Now downstairs to the kitchen. Emily was finally going to get to taste again. She was just dreaming of the food that could be in the refrigerator.

Emily woke up. What? Emily never woke up because she never slept. She was warm. The blanket over her body was soft. Emily was feeling. It had been several lifetimes since she had felt anything. Was this a dream or someone’s idea of a sick joke? How was this possible?

The girl looked down at herself. This wasn’t her body. What was happening? Emily quickly stood up and looked for a mirror. The carpet on the ground was soft and tickled her feet. It was a sensory overload. The smell of the room was floral. After all these years, Emily remembered the smell of flowers. The girl began to cry. The tears were hot. She remembered tears. She remembered breathing. She remembered sore muscles and that stretching eased the tension.

Emily didn’t recognize the reflection in the mirror. If maybe she had, then she would have an idea of what was going on. All of this was overwhelming. She didn’t know what to do.

There was some commotion coming from outside her room. Opening the door, there was a girl wondering whose body she was in. So this wasn’t something that just happened to her. That was a relief. Several other young people came out into the hallway expressing their surprise of waking up in someone else’s body. Emily was slowly beginning to piece together what was happening. She went back into her room and called her own cell-phone number.

“Hello? Who is this? It seems we may have switched bodies. You should get back to the mansion right away. My keys are in my purse next to my bedroom door. If you can’t drive, there should be enough money in my purse to take a cab.”

Yes yes yes! Emily wants to play!

Emily glanced at her new acquaintance. A woman that she owed her life to. “I have all the time in the world.” It was getting pretty late and Emily was surprised this woman didn’t want to go home, clean up, and get some rest. But it was always nice to have someone around to talk to. “Where would you want to go? We should probably get out of this neighborhood actually. My car is back at my friend’s place.” Her vehicle wasn’t actually hers but on loan from her employer. She hoped it hadn’t taken any damage from the chaos that had happened that day.

Emily didn’t know what the girl meant by a story. She had revealed so much about herself already. The dead girl was known for talking someone’s ear off, but it was about frivolous, unimportant things. What did this woman want to talk about?

Emily listened to the woman’s explanation of The Sanctuary. “I remember visiting some sort of mansion for mutants. I think it was a school. I was only there for a few minutes during a Valentine function. I had to leave so I didn’t really get to look around. Are you affiliated with them?” Emily felt like she was walking through a waterfall. A very long waterfall. “It’s nice there are safe places for mutants. You see too much violence and discrimination against us.” Emily didn’t want to get into a political conversation with a woman she just met. But she had a feeling the woman had similar views, many mutants did.

“So it is a shield and a weapon. Very nice. My mutation isn’t as impressive.” She had a similar conversation with a certain alien-type who could break through walls with his body and slice through almost anything. Emily envied him.

Emily shrugged at the damsel comment. “What else would I have done? Let you drown?” She thought of how horrible a watery grave would be. She thought of how a body decomposed in murky depths. Would anyone look for her body?

The girl could barely see her white hearse a few yards in front of her. She sped up when the thought of being dry was so close. The doors were unlocked. Emily was very trusting. She climbed through the hatch in the back. “You can get in the front if you want. I’m just going to change back here real quick.”

A human could do this. A stronger one who had training in difficult weather conditions and could stand almost freezing rain. But as long as Emily could bend her arm, she could pull on the rope and ignore the weather. “Yes I am. A mutant I mean.”

Emily was glad the rain wouldn’t bother the other woman. But she was far from dry, her clothes were soaked through. She hoped the pink wisps could warm the woman. She listened to the woman ask about a place called The Sanctuary. Was that a church? “No, I haven’t heard of it.” Now that she was on the dock, Emily looked around to see if she recognized the surroundings. “Several blocks that way is my car.” She pointed to the left of her. “We can head that way and I can take you to wherever you need to go.”

Emily was in a skin-tight water-suit with bare feet. She didn’t want to go trapesing around the city in such ridiculous attire. She began to walk in the direction of the car, wondering what kind of reputation the woman had. The lady didn’t seem to be harmful. Maybe she was famous in popular culture, like a singer or a news-anchor that was notorious in her ways of uncovering the truth. Emily didn’t follow the fast-paced trends as much as she should. Well as long as the woman didn’t try to harm or interview her, Emily would treat her as well as she would anyone else.

It was still too early for most people to be going to work, so the road to her car would be almost free of cars. And with the torrential downpour, the few who were on the road would be paying attention to what they could see in front of them instead of two women walking on the side. “I like your mutation,” making conversation even though the rain was ridiculously loud. “So the pink stuff hardens then?” The subsistence reminded Emily of smoke, but Aura had said it would keep her dry, so it must solidify.