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The Ward

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A man wakes in a woman's body with no memory of his name or past -- only the certainty of who he is. Stranded in a psychiatric ward while the world tries to identify him, he finds an unexpected connection with a fellow patient. A quiet, literary story about identity, disorientation, and intimacy.

This story with images and other stories can be accessed at my Patreon at https://rebirth.pub/bc

Rebirth - Part II

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The elevator opens and I step into the office. My shoes squeak against the linoleum, too loose, and my hips move with each step in a rhythm I'm not choosing. The receptionist gives me her usual nod.

Rebirth

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When Mike wakes up one morning with a woman's anatomy below the waist, he has two immediate problems: getting through the workday without anyone noticing, and figuring out how to tell his wife. What follows is an intimate, unflinching account of a man learning to inhabit a body that has quietly rewritten the rules - and discovering that his marriage may be more adaptable than he ever expected.

These sections with images and future sections can be accessed at my Patreon at https://rebirth.pub/bc

The Ward - Part 1

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The first thing is the seat.

Not pain — just wrongness, a soft pressure where there shouldn't be softness, the wooden chair coming up against sensitive and unfamiliar flesh, flesh that registers the hardness of the wood with a directness that makes you shift immediately, instinctively, your weight rolling forward onto your thighs. Better. Marginally. The underwear is wrong too — something silky, something that rides and gathers in ways that underwear shouldn't, the fabric light against skin that is reporting every thread of it.

You look at the table.

Rebirth - Part I

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Outside the window the light is flat and grey, the kind of March morning that hasn't decided what it wants to do yet. I kick the sheets off. The air in the bedroom is cool but my thighs feel damp, sticky almost, the boxers bunching up between my legs like they're caught on something. I press my palms into the mattress and push myself up, legs swinging over the edge - except my balance is wrong. Not dizzy. Just off, like my center of gravity shifted an inch or two south while I was sleeping.

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