He shuts his eyes and thinks to himself, “5:30. Raining. October 22. Where's Clara? Think, think, THINK!” “Just this once. I'd really like to se... you tonight, Paul,” the woman says. There's an enticing lilt in her tongue. He freezes, a sudden realization smacking him across the face like a load of bricks. “Sylvie,” he drones. The woman chuckles. “You can say my name a little less like as if you're reading a road sign, don't you think?” Paul spins on his heels, dragging his fingers through his. Slowly his stature commences to shorten, his body becomes smaller, hismuscles turn more fibrous but less bulky, from his grey hair sprouts newgolden tresses covering his face momentarily, his sturdy face becomesmore smooth and delicate, his hands are moulded slowly into somethingmore feminine, little by little the combat suit that he is wearingbecomes to big to him and the gauntlet becomes lighter that makes himstand up again, not without noting the effects of two massive breastssprouting from. More

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