Road Trip

Toe rings. On his bus trip across the country, John began to make a list in his head of the small things he was surprised to enjoy about his new life since the Great Shift. Toe rings were definitely on the list. That morning John had opted to dress casual, a black belly shirt, daisy dukes, and a pair of flip flops. On a whim, he had slipped one of Starla's small, silver toe rings onto the second toe on his right foot. He didn't regret it. From his perch on the plush Greyhound seat, his eyes kept darting down, not only taking in the pink nail polish he had applied to his cute toes, but the glint of sunlight off the toe ring, bringing a smile to his puffy lips each time.

When John wasn't admiring his feet, he stared out the window thinking of his family. He couldn't wait to arrive home. When the Great Shift had first happened, communications had ground to a halt. Without the proper people in place to maintain the infrastructure, the internet had gone down, cell service had become completely unreliable. Whole cities went dark, not only from communications, but the power grid failed as well. It took weeks to restore anything to a functional baseline, having to locate experts, coordinate transport, get supplies. It was a logistical nightmare.

John had been lucky. The city he was in never lost power, but television, radio, and communication stopped hard. There were days the only thing that had kept him sane, **** him to not live in a total panic state, was his responsibility to Justine. He had to keep a brave face for her. Whatever John was going through, it was worse for the girl.

When communications started up again, it was slow. At first it was only through official channels, no room for idle chit chat. If you wanted to send a message, you submitted it to a central office, who tried to get it through for you. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. The challenge was on both ends. Were the people you were trying to reach even at the location you had left them? Had the Great Shift sent them across the world? Again, John lucked out. Two of his family members were still at home, according to the communications office. The message they sent him was short, concise.

Waiting your arrival. Glad to hear you're okay. Love.

They might have written more, but with hundreds of millions of people attempting to communicate, resources were limited. John still remembered vividly getting the message from the clerk. He had been in such a daze that he almost walked into the closed door on his way out.

"Here, let me get that for you," said a man holding the door in front of John.

Doors. That was another thing John was surprised to enjoy. People held doors for him. A middle aged man opened his own doors, but people didn't think twice about opening one for a sexy young woman. Sure, the doors were being opened by a whole variety of people, men, children, old ladies, but John was pretty sure that almost all of them had been men before the Great Shift. Yes, doors were definitely on John's list.

How had his family fared through the Great Shift? Would he even recognize anyone? Would they accept him as he was, in his new body, in his new life? He had spoken to other travelers on the bus. The older Filipino woman next to him had previously been a Caucasian woman of around the same age. She was determined to enter into her old life as if nothing had happened. In front of her were a pair of boys who looked to be about fourteen. They too had said they were not going to change much about their lives, although one had been a female accountant and mother of three, and the other had been a sixty-year-old sports journalist named Chuck. They'd obviously grown close after the Great Shift, but they were resolved to split up when they got to their respective cities and reenter their old lives.

Not John. For John, there was no going back. His new body was just too great to spoil it on his old life. Already he'd adopted Starla's workout routine, her diet, and her wardrobe. After his experience dancing at the club before he left, John had spent a lot of time watching routines online, learning techniques, practicing moves. John might not be a professional dancer once he got home, but his body was made to move, and he'd be damned if he didn't move it. Besides, dancing, it turned out, was fun! And the feeling he got showing his body off in front of an audience, their eyes glued to his body, their arousal in the palm of his hands, it was a feeling of power, of excitement, of arousal. John was an addict.

He only hoped that his family, his wife, would accept him as he was. He was still John, a family man, and above all, he needed his family.