The morning sun, still low and hazy, streamed through the studio windows, painting golden stripes across the polished floor. My muscles, a symphony of aches from yesterday’s session, still protested with every movement, but a new lightness infused my steps. I felt it, a subtle shift in my centre of gravity, a growing familiarity with the silicone weight, the snug embrace of the shaper. Melanie's hand-me-down leggings, initially a foreign skin, now felt like a second one, moving with me, not against me.

Today was the day. Today, Michael became Melanie, not just for a moment, but for hours, in front of Marco, in front of a mirror, learning to dance as someone else.

Melanie, already dressed in leggings and a loose top, perched on the bathroom counter, her ankle still elevated on a stack of fluffy towels. Mum, a vision in her usual practical jeans and an oversized jumper, rummaged through her makeup bag, a determined glint in her eye.

Cover art by Erin Halfelven

©2026 SammyC

Matty Caff AI Comic Fantasies: These are independent stand alone AI and Face Swap created comics of fantasy and some personal experience. I use my face in every comic. Comment if you like them or have a request. And it's a little disappointing that only one person has ever commented after posting over 450 comics.

The bathroom mirror, usually a fleeting acquaintance, now held a captive audience of three. My reflection, still unmistakably Michael, stared back, a canvas awaiting transformation. Melanie, perched on the counter, swung her legs, a glint of mischief in her eyes. Mum, armed with an arsenal of brushes and palettes, surveyed me like a sculptor eyeing unworked clay.

“Right, let’s get this show on the road,” Mum announced, her voice a blend of determination and theatrical flair.

She dabbed a cool, liquid primer across my forehead. Its scent, faintly floral, tickled my nose.

Chapter 4

That night, it took a long while for me to go to sleep. The morning would be two weeks since I had discovered his body, and Tom had filled the days since with his spirit. As I laid in the dark, idly scratching a dogs head, I thought about the clues that had been left. A small boy bullied and called a queer, who had grown up gay and finding love with a larger man. It all fitted a profile.

Tamsin and Josie became a team mostly because of their being together 24/7. Even though Tamsin was Elenora’s niece, she wasn’t that close with her aunt. Tamsin was very much her own woman.

The antiseptic tang of the living room haunted the air, a faint ghost of the hospital ward. Melanie, propped on the sofa, a patchwork quilt draped over her plaster-encased leg, flipped through a magazine. Her ankle throbbed, a dull ache that resonated with the silence hanging between her and Mum.

I lingered in the doorway, the scent of burnt toast from my failed breakfast attempt clinging to my jumper. They hadn't noticed me yet. Their voices, hushed and conspiratorial, floated from the other side of the room.

I looked at myself in the big mirror on the back of the door.

Another Country -9-
by Erin Halfelven

Brown sat off to the side, an outsider. Not family, not friend. Not Catholic. In the packed assembly, gathered together to celebrate a life, to mourn a death, he felt alone.

Chapter 3

We had lunch with Mum in the library café, telling her what was happening and how far we had got with the house. Margaret told her that the two of us would be at the church earlier to stand with our Uncle and Aunt. After that, we went back to the house, where I had to get shirtless and sit in the garden while my sister worked on my hair.