An Unfair Trade

The tongue seems to be pumping stuff into your swollen forearm and then pumping stuff out as the swelling seems to decrease. You cannot see your hand, but it feels like it's buried in a nest of beetles. You kick, scream, flail and shout. But it is to no avail.

You start to feel the tree growing warmer, and your own body growing stiff all over. You find yourself burying your toes then your feet deep in the soil. It was hard clay soil, but your toes dug deep nonetheless.

You notice that the tree seems to have softened quite a bit, but you've still held firmly by now a less wooden, more rubbery grip. No one will believe this.

"No one will ever know it, except me," said an unseen speaker.

"Who said that? What do you mean no one else will know?" you say fearfully, "Did you read my mind?"

The tree quivers, shrinks and reshapes. Your hand is now wedged in some naked guy's warm armpit. His facial features are sort of non-descript, but as you watch they become more defined. Oh, this can't be good, it's like looking in a mirror.

"Looking in a mirror that reflects who you were," says your doppelganger. "I myself, appear to have a tree branch in my armpit."

He raises his arm and you look down to see that your arm is indeed a greenish coloured tree branch. He starts to remove your shirt, "See, you won't be needing these clothes any more, but I will."

You gasp, and more gas escapes from you. The startled former tree jumps back. "Don't want to swap back, now do I?" He laughs and streaks off into the forest naked. He turns and shouts over his shoulder, "It's not worth it to have your clothes, I'll find some elsewhere. It feels so incredible to move from one spot, to run. Goodbye."

He vanishes.

The gas gurgles in your stomach.