Borrowed Curves

It happened because of a stupid mix-up with a phone. We both reached for the same model at the café counter, laughed, and realized we’d unlocked each other’s devices with face ID at the exact same time. The screens glitched, flashed, and when I looked up, the reflection in the glass behind her wasn’t me anymore—it was her, standing where I was. A blink later, my balance shifted, my clothes fit differently, and every step felt guided by a body that moved with effortless grace. She—wearing my face—just shrugged like this was life being playful, while I slowly found my footing in a form that drew eyes without trying. The oddest part wasn’t the swap; it was how natural it felt to carry her quiet confidence, like I’d borrowed more than just a body for the day.