As he rubbed sleep from his eyes, Ken remembered the wild and passionate dream vividly, as well as the strange interruption. Who was that woman? Circe. He remembered the name from somewhere. He couldn't think of where. It was sorta hard to think of anything this morning - he felt a little fuzzy-headed, like he was still partly asleep.
<p>
As he lay there in his bed, he became aware of dampness - he must have had a wet dream again. Except this didn't feel sticky, and now he could smell something familiar. Sitting up suddenly, Ken stared at himself. While the yellow stain from wetting the bed would normally have been a shock, the scrawny, pale, and obviously prepubescent body that had produced it was what made him gasp in shock.
<p>
Ken closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked again. There was no change. Scrambling up, he ran to the dresser and looked at the mirror, which set higher than it had last night. Instead of a nice-looking sixteen year-old with blond hair and brown eyes, a homely, freckle-faced boy of about nine or ten years stared back from the mirror. His ears stuck out from tangled, coarse brown hair, and the oddly vacant-looking eyes were pale blue. His once perfect teeth were now bucked and crooked. This wasn't him! Tears filled the child's eyes, and ran down the freckled cheeks. This boy looked stupid and ugly! He was a dumb, homely little kid!
<p>
"Kenneth?" His mother's voice came from outside the bedroom door. "Are you up?" Before he could say anything, the door swung open and his mother came in. She looked at the bed with its obvious stain first, then turned to see him standing naked in front of the dresser.