. who did you used to be?" she asked. "Eric Wright," I muttered. I went home on foot. The football field is a good mile away from my home, and half of...that is uphill. Strangely- or maybe not so strangely- though, I didn't feel exhausted when I got there. Probably because my new body was in better shape than my old one. At my home, I found that- except for me- my family was more or less unchanged. My mother had been swapped with a woman who appeared to be about the same age as her, maybe a few. I'd found a guy in South Dakota who was making glass. He'd always wanted to learn how to do it, he'd told me, and now he finally could. He made the worst glass in the world, all yellow and crooked, but he was happy. He'd given me a little shot glass when I'd told him I was leaving. We'd been together for five days and a week later I couldn't remember his name.I rode down slowly, approaching across a field overgrown with weeds. There wasn't anything else I could do, really. I wasn't going to. More

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