The wish.

Before the Great Shift, Jason had always cycled to work. He saw no reason to abandon a lifetime habit just because he'd become a woman. Unfortunately, his wardrobe hadn't caught up with his determination. He hadn’t had time to buy clothes of his own, and the woman whose body he now occupied had given him a selection of skirts, bras and underwear chosen with very little thought for his morning commute. Still, he dressed, fetched his bicycle and set off. Getting on proved to be the first challenge. He began his usual swing over the saddle, felt the skirt tighten across his thighs and hastily reconsidered. By the time he’d manoeuvred himself into position, he was grateful the street was quiet. Once moving, the familiar journey felt surprisingly unfamiliar.

An underwear seam pressed awkwardly against the saddle, making him shift his weight. The everyday bra was comfortable enough standing still, but every bump in the road revealed its shortcomings. With each pedal stroke, the skirt crept higher up his thighs; as he gathered speed, the front fluttered alarmingly in the breeze. His first instinct was to hold it down, but he needed both hands for the handlebars. At a safe stopping place, he pulled over, smoothed the fabric beneath his thighs and checked that nothing hung near the chain. He felt conspicuous whenever he passed anyone, although most people barely glanced at him. That almost made him laugh, because to everyone else he was simply a woman riding to work. Only he knew how much thought was going into something he’d once done half asleep. At the next junction, he put a foot down and adjusted again. “Cycling shorts,” he muttered, “and a sports bra. First shopping trip.” By the time he reached work, he was warm, slightly flustered and pleased with himself. He wheeled his bicycle into its usual space and straightened his skirt. The Great Shift had already changed quite enough. His morning bike ride wasn't going so well.