She had been here before knowing the glasses were in the upper cupboard to the right of the window over the sink.“I’ll upsell you until you do,” Avery shrugged. She set down a carton of orange juice on the counter and filled the gap in the fridge with her beer.“Then no, I turn you down,” David laughed.Avery had a hand on her hip, a cocked grin, and a raised eyebrow. “So what is it you want?”“Oh no,” David grinned, “You’re better at bargaining than that.”“That’s true,” Avery nodded, “Give me my phone.”Avery hardly had enough fabric to cover her essentials. She hadn’t brought her bag. Everything she needed for the night was stuffed in the front left pocket of David’s jeans. She grabbed it out of David’s hand, rushed it into selfie mode and snuggled her chest against his arm, “Make sure to smile.”And David did, turning his attention the phone. Avery’s head turned towards his, and he was about to look at her and question her actions, before her tongue skated into his ear. The flash. I thought it might climb right up thereand leave altogether. I had barely enough mental opportunity to realize I wasnow wearing woman's under-drawers. Skimpy women's under-drawers.Then the truly astounding began to happen. The cuffs of my slacks toreviolently but neatly open with an audible ripping that filled the deepexpanse of room. At the same time the lowest portion of my dress shirtseamed to fuse to the waistband of my pants making the two pieces onearticle of clothing, more or less. Much of my white dress shirt was losingits bleach-like lack of color. As if shot with ink, black began to spreadominously into the fabric. My slacks which were already a deep black didnot change hue. The threads of the torn pants became animated fibers,wriggling as if they had come to life all by themselves. The pants nolonger could be defined as such as the legs were rapidly disappearing. Thethreads from one leg began to weave their way into those of the oppositeside forming, for the moment, on.
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