Lounging in her favourite chair, listening as her husband pulled up, Barbara barely registered any of it, thinking only that of late, her life and marriage had become more of a chore then something to be enjoyed. Turning the page of the book she was reading, she muttered a good afternoon when Mark came in, but did not stir any more then that as he took the other chair, picked up the other book on the end-table and began to read.
After a couple hours, Barbara stood and stated, "I'm going to begin cooking dinner," in a flat and dull tone, to which Mark simply replied, "Uh-huh," as Barbara left the room.
Dinner passed in much the same fashion the previous had been going; conversation was sparse, to the point and had a forced nature to it. Afterward, Mark returned to the living room to continue reading, while Barbara began clearing the table, something she wished Mark would do once and while, but knew he would never and that it was considered her job.
Taking the trash out, she almost did not see it, never having really given a second thought to the contents of her husband’s car, having one of her to drive to work and wherever she felt the need to go. Pausing after having seen it, she glanced back to make sure she it was what she thought it was and seeing that it was, she opened the passenger side door and picked up the note, asking herself, "Who would want to write something to Mark," as she did so, knowing that the last living relative of Mark's had passed away several years previous.
Unfolding the note, the first thing she saw was Mark's wish. And then the writing vanished, nearly causing her to drop the note, and then more words formed and slowly reading them, the first thought that popped into her head was, "This is ludicrous!"
Taking the note with her, she almost went to Mark to ask him about it, but instead changed her mind and headed for her study, where she sat down at the desk, clicked on the goose-neck lamp and reread what was written on the note. As she read, she thought about what Mark had written, wondered how it was possible that one set of written words could vanish and another set to appear and reaching for a pen, she thought about what she would wish for.
After a couple seconds, in which Mark came to the door and said he was going to have a lie-down for a bit, Barbara tapped the pen against the paper and then slowly wrote:
'My husband thinks his life is a bore? He wishes for change? I wish for change as well. But the sort of change I wish for, I get from realising that I made a mistake years ago. I wish that Mark would get his change. And his change would change his outlook on life.
'But what I wish for, is that change would happen and that change be that he would slowly change into a girl. A girl that loves me and wants to be with me for the rest of her life. A girl that is young, but not too young, like infant age. A girl that questions, but is also opened minded to learn. A girl who makes mistakes and is willing to except that mistakes have happened and learn from them. A girl that has a childe-like nature, but still has some sense of responsibility and will grow in to more as the years go by. As this change happens, I will be along for the ride, changing to match the girl my husband is becoming.
'How will the change happen? By some force instigating some sort of feminine on Mark; such as I suggest Mark to wear something pretty and feminine and he agrees. Then some sort of change occurs. Or Mark thinks something that a girl would think, then some sort of change occurs. Or even if Mark does something feminine, that will lead toward a change.
'The transformation, for both of us, should be slow and free of any pain. This is my wish. A wish that my husband would become my wife and that we are lesbian lovers. Please make this come true.'
Scanning over what she had just written, feeling silly having just confessed that at one time she had feelings for other woman and that she had given them up because of a marriage that had not turned out so great, she slowly crossed out a few things, rewrote them in different wording, crossed those edits out and wrote them the way they originally had been written and then paused. Rereading the note, she scanned it again and again, editing and re-editing, sometimes going back over her own edits. After a couple minutes, she sighed and figured it was as good as it was going to get, she added, 'Neither Mark nor I am aware of the changes,' and folding it up, she dropped the pen in the cup and staring at the note, she placed it in the desk drawer. Standing, decided to go and find Mark and see what would happen if she attempted to engage him in something feminine.