TF (chair, water, spider, shrinking, twinning, invisibile)


As long as Harry had known Joan, she'd had a hobby.

It wasn't unusual for her to get totally obsessed with an activity before mastering it and moving on to the next one. She was that type of person.

When Harry had met her, she'd spent her leisure hours at a potter's wheel. When they started dating, she'd really got into macrame. She learnt how to play the piano just before they were married. At their
five-year anniversary, she was a mainstay at the local stitch and bitch group. After she turned 40, she really got into yoga.

Then a friend in her yoga class confided how she spent her own weekends.

And suddenly Joan had a brand new hobby.

*

On Monday ...

Harry put his key in the lock and opened the front door. "Hi, I'm home!" he called.

He could hear Joan giggling. "I'm in the dining room, honey."

When Harry walked into the room, though, there was no sign of her. Just the dining table and the seven chairs around it ...

Since when did their table have seven chairs?

He sighed. "Darling, are you a chair?"

"Yes!" And as laughter burst out, one of the chairs developed a face on its back.

His wife's face, to be exact.

She was really getting good at this transformation thing. Not that he understood what she saw in it. She'd been so eager to share it with him that he had agreed to a transformation together.

They'd changed into pears and sat in a fruitbowl. Big deal. It seemed like it thrilled Joan, but he would have been rather playing with the model train set that took up an entire upstairs room.

"Um, nice chair, honey," he told the laughing piece of furniture.

"But do you see? I didn't just turn into a chair!" Joan beamed. "I turned into one of our chairs! I came into the room, looked hard at
the other chairs, and I copied them in my mind. Then I became one!"

"Uh ... wow?"

"Hey, aren't you home from work early?"

"Early? No. It's already past six."

"Oh really? I didn't realise. Guess time flies when you're a piece of furniture. I'll get dinner on in a minute. But first ... could you do me a favour?"

"Sure, what?"

"Could you sit on me for a bit?"

*
On Tuesday ...

The house was silent when Harry let himself in, but the alarm wasn't on, so he assumed Joan was in there somewhere.

He walked into the kitchen. Nope, no sign of her. Just a bowl of water on the kitchen table. Who left that there?

He picked it up to put it in the sink, only to hear Joan shout "Harry! Careful! It's me!!"

Damn it, he almost dropped the bowl right there. "Joan? That's you?"

The water in the bowl seemed to ripple, forming a face on its surface.

"Hey, hon. I guess I fell asleep and I woke up when the bowl jerked. I didn't mean to scream so loud."

"That's OK. But you've really got to be more careful. I mean, what if you hadn't woken up?"

"Oh, I would have been able to change back, even if you washed me down the sink. It would have taken time, though." The face shifted back in the water, leaving only a mouth to speak with.

"So, uh, you've been a bowl of water all afternoon?"

"What? Oh, no! I started out as an ice-cube, then I sat around and melted."

"Oh."

"Yes, it was such a wonderful feeling to go from being a solid to being a liquid. That's basically a transformation in itself. I guess
if it was hot enough I would have evaporated. Maybe I'll try that some time."

"So ... you're going to change back now?"

"In a little while. You don't mind if we eat later than usual, do you?"

*

On Wednesday ...

By now Harry was getting used to the routine. He let himself in, called out a greeting to his wife - whatever she was - and went to the living room, where the comfiest chair in the house awaited him. That,
and the new Michael Connelly book.

He was engrossed in the thriller when something ran over the back of his chair.

He never knew he could move that quickly.

"Christ on a bicycle!" he yelled from halfway across the room.

"Sorry, darling, didn't mean to startle you."

Hanging on the back of his chair was a huge spider. Well, most of a spider. It had a bulbous body and furry legs, but incongruously, it had a tiny human head. His wife's head, of course.

"You're ... you're a spider-woman?"

Joan laughed. "Don't I look cool?"

Well, he guessed so. "Weird" also came to mind.

"So, wait, how did you do that?"

"Well, I've been working on animal transformations, and I realised I'd never  been a spider, so I looked up a big one on the internet and copied that."

"But the head?"

"When I became a spider I realised I was basically deaf, and the eyes thing was so confusing, so I decided to see if I could change back just a little bit of me, and I did."

"Well ... I guess I'm proud of you."

"I'm pretty proud of myself too." His wife the spider was now crawling up the wall, making for the point where it met the ceiling. In the
corner she began to spin a web.

"This reminds me of my macrame days ... except for the shooting the string out of my tummy, I guess."

Harry watched his wife form an intricate web. He sighed. "Joan? I know it's my turn to cook on Thursday but ... mind if I do it? I just feel
like being in the kitchen tonight."

"Mmm? Oh sure, dear. That'd be great."

*
On Thursday ...

Harry was humming a cheerful tune when he unlocked the door. Joan had promised that tonight they'd spend time sharing his hobbies for once. And it was his night to cook, so he had a nice meal planned.

"Joan?" he called.

"In the kitchen, honey."

Was it his imagination or did she sound squeakier than normal?

When he walked in, Joan was sitting at the kitchen table. OK, correction. She was sitting on the kitchen table.

Because she was only four inches tall.

"Hi dear," she said. "Busy day at work?"

"So-so," Harry said. "I guess I don't need to ask what you've been up to."

She nodded. "I was trying out shrinking."

"How was it?"

"Actually, I thought I'd feel tiny and helpful, but ... it's been empowering. It's given me a whole new perspective on things."

Harry nodded. "Changing back any time soon?"

"Well, that's just it," Joan said, flushing slightly. "I goofed. I thought the transformation potion would just allow me to resume my normal size whenever I wanted, the same way other potions have let me revert back to being human. But turns out this one lasts for exactly six hours." She
nodded at the small bottle also placed on the table. "Guess I should learn to read the instructions more carefully. I'll be tiny for at
least another hour and a half. Sorry, Harry. I knew you were looking forward to doing something together."

Harry smiled. "Who says we can't?"

*
"Toot-toot!" Harry did a terrible impression of a whistle. The guard's hat didn't help either. "All aboard who's going aboard! Next stop,
Central Station!"

And with a flick of his switch, his toy train set off around the elaborate track he'd built. Complete with a giggling, naked, tiny
woman straddling the engine.

This is fun! Joan thought. It was like a roller-coaster as it went up and down hills, even through tunnels (Harry called for her to duck as they approached). She didn't visit this room often - it was Harry's
hobby, after all, not hers - and she found herself with a new appreciation for his model-making and the elaborate landscape he'd built.

"Harry?" she said eventually. "I've had such a good time, but it's 7.30pm and my guess is the potion will be wearing off in 10 minutes or so."

"Oh heck! I was going to cook dinner!" Harry said, flicking the engine power off. "Come on, honey, climb into my pocket. We'll get you down to the kitchen to grow."

Dinner was late, but good.

*
On Friday ...

Harry came walking up the drive even more cheerfully than he had on Thursday. He'd had a great time with the trains yesterday. And as soon as he'd driven up, Joan had been at the door to greet him.

"Hi, honey!" he said with a kiss. "Nice to be home. I guess the weekend starts here."

"I'm looking forward to it," Joan said with a smile. "A Saturday in the garden sounds like just my speed."

They walked to the kitchen to have a cup of coffee. "No potions today?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Uh, well ..." Joan said. And then she bumped into Harry, who'd stopped dead in the doorway.

Because in the kitchen, making coffee, was another Joan.

And seated at the table, working on her laptop, was yet another Joan.

Harry turned to his wife and rubbed his eyes. No, there were still three of her.

"Duplication potion," the first Joan said sheepishly.

"We wanted to make things nice for you," the second added.

"So we split into three so we could do some work, go out to shop for dinner, and still be ready to greet you," the third said.

"You've been so understanding this week."

"So, uh, which one is the real Joan?" Harry said.

"Why, we're all the real Joan!"

"The potion didn't create any new Joans, it just separated me into three."

"Eventually the potion will wear off and we'll recombine into one."

"With the memories of all three."

"Hopefully not until I finish editing this article."

Harry looked from one to the other. An idea was forming in his head. A wicked, evil, terrible, brilliant idea.

"So, uh, Joan ... ladies ... what's the plan?"

"I'm going to cook dinner."

"I'm going to finish working."

"I'm going to chat with you over a cup of coffee."

"And," he said slowly, "have you considered any other possibilities?"

"Possibilities?"

"Considering  the ... situation? And the ... equations?"

A light seemed to dawn over the Joans' heads.

"Why Harry Partwicker, that's a perverse idea!" the first Joan cried. "And ... I like it!"

"Me too!"

"Sounds like fun!"

"So," Harry said, scarcely unable to believe his ears, "you'll do it?"

Joan shrugged. "Well, why not? It's not like you're cheating."

"And the other thing ..." said Joan II.

"Would be just like masturbation!" Joan III added.

"I can't say I'm not intrigued by the idea."

"It's just the, well, mechanics of it that might need some work."

"Well, let's start with three and see how we go from there."

*
Two hours later ...

"Phew."

"Yep."

"Just ... phew."

Joan and Harry lay exhaused on the bed.

"I guess I never got around to making dinner," Joan said.

"I can't say I mind," said Harry. "Shall I call for a pizza?"

Joan glanced at the two women lying giggling at the foot of the bed. "Better make it two. Large ones."

*

On Saturday ...

What beautiful weather it's been today, Harry thought.as he lay back in the lounge chair. He and Joan had spent all day in the backyard gardening, and although the work had been hard, it had also been
enjoyable, and the couple were rewarding themselves with a glass of Chablis.

If Joan had still been three women, they'd probably have got through the work faster, Harry thought. But she'd recombined just before midnight. With a grin, she'd told him that she wouldn't be transforming during the day, but she had a surprise for him later on.

The sun was just going down when she turned to him and said, "I think I'll go and get my surprise ready. Why don't you go into the living room, close the shades and sit down?"

He did so, listening to Joan rummaging around upstairs, the straightened in his chair as he heard her coming down the stairs.

When she entered, he gave a little gasp. She was dressed up in a blue sheath dress, black stockings and high heels. Her makeup was perfect.

Joan smiled. After all these years together, he still looked at her like she was a goddess. "Harry, I know I've been transforming a lot
this week, but I've saved the best for last. For you."

From between her breasts she pulled a little vial full of a green liquid. She uncorked it, then downed the contents.

Joan smiled happily. Then her face began to fade away.

Harry looked his wife up and down. All the visible parts of her body were vanishing.

"Ah! It's an invisibility potion," he deduced.

"Clever boy," came his wife's voice, although he could barely see her face any more.

Once she'd totally disappeared, she began a little striptease. First the sheath dress unzipped itself and fell to the floor, revealing a corset and lace panties. Next the corset was unhooked, before the panties slid to the floor, leaving two empty stockings standing there in heels. And what beautiful shapes they were.

Harry was ... well, at attention.

The stockings walked over to where he was sitting and leaned over him. He could feel the kiss on his lips.

"Why don't we go upstairs, darling?" purred Joan's voice.

He wanted to ... God, how he wanted to ... but ...

"But you're invisible!" he croaked.

Joan laughed. "Don't worry, honey, I'll guide you. Just try to aim between the stockings."

They never did get around to dinner than night.

*

On Sunday ...

On the seventh day, Joan rested.

Which, to tell the truth, left Harry a little disappointed.

But never mind, he told himself. After all, tomorrow was Monday.