(Originally written on March 11, 2024.)

Something bizarre is happening to me.

I double over as my spine extends downward into the seat of my pants, tenting the fabric. When it finally tears, the new growth is revealed to be a long list of rules and interactions, which spills out from behind me and onto the floor. I can move it, and feel it, and it’s really attached to me, but I get little time to think about this.

A small cry escapes my lips as my teeth grow and sharpen into difficulty spikes. At first it feels like they’re too large to fit in my mouth, but they don’t stay that way, because I adjust to them, or they adjust to me, or something, it’s hard to say. I groan a little from the initial pain, and already my voice is distorting into a distinct, mood-setting soundtrack.

Soft padding wells up on my swelling fingers and toes. It’s my content growing in, of course. I then notice that my shoes are uncomfortably tight, my jeans too, as my legs and feet bulk up into those of a strong runner, easily capable of running on just about anything.

My nose grows damp, along with several other spots on my face, including my cheeks, my lips, and around my eyes. Color is delicately being added to them, like makeup. It’s polish, and it’s making me quite beautiful.

All this time, something soft and warm has been sprouting from my skin. I can’t see it all, thanks to my clothes, but it looks like it’s writing. Pages and pages of it. Hints of a plot that looks quite intricate, but also helpful, concise text for menus and descriptions. I notice a grammatical error and frown. That’ll need to be patched out later.

The sound of my feet bursting through my shoes and touching the floor of my living room is excellently designed. I’m not great at moving around just yet, but it still feels pretty good. My long tongue licks the air, taking in the unique flavor of it all. I look down at my new form.

Though I don’t understand how, or why, or what it even means, I’ve transformed into a game.