He wrote, "Although my age is the same and everyone who knows me treats me as an adult, I am physically a 9-year-old boy."
Dave had been standing as he wrote, and as soon as he finished the sentence, he felt the desk rise up towards him as his perspective dropped. The pen seemed to grow in his hand along with everything else around him except for his clothes. His suit shrank along with him tailoring itself to fit his childish body. And then it was all done. He looked up around his room, everything seemed so much larger and taller.
His desk came up his belly button, and he noted that couldn't have been more than 4-and-a-half feet tall. A sort of booster seat had appeared on his desk chair. Looking at the height of it, he realized that his feet probably wouldn't touch the floor while sitting there. He giggled at the sight of it, and paused a moment at the sound of his childish laugh.
"Wow," he said. "Listen to me." He giggled again to hear how high his voice sounded now. He touched his throat and felt no sign of an Adam's apple. He ran a hand over his cheek. "Smooth as a baby's bottom," he said. There was not even a hint of stubble. He really was a kid.
He looked around the room for more changes, but the only other adaptation to his new size seemed to be lower coat hangers on the wall.
He needed to see himself. He wrote again with the pen, this time noticing how much messier his handwriting had become, "There is a full-length mirror on my wall."
He capped the pen and set it down. When he turned to the wall next to his door, he found a mirror where he had expected it to be. He walked up to it and was greeted by the sight of his 9-year-old self looking just as he remembered with his button nose and his smattering of freckles. He smiled and noticed some mismatched adult teeth at the front of his mouth. Only his front adult teeth had grown in, it seemed. He touched one with a finger and then turned his attention to his little hands. They seemed so soft and small now. Everything about him said he was a child, except for his clothes. His suit and tie made him look like a kid on his way to a formal event, like a wedding. It fit him perfectly though, as if it had been tailored just for him.
"This is great," he declared.
He turned to walk into the hallway and explore the office at his new age, but he hesitated. Would people recognize him now? he worried for a second. Would they just throw him out of the office as some strange kid? He went back to his desk, grabbed the pen, and held it tightly in his hand. If things went wrong, he wanted it with him ready to write him out of trouble.
He stepped into the hallway and...