You know, I bet Caruncle would never say what he feels about the whole change thing. She’s a coward, she rather thinks she was forced onto it than actually choosing it at all, it was comical.

  But, I do know how she felt, she liked having long hair, and be pretty, and have boobs, and she liked not having that thing anymore, trust me, for her, it was like having to carry a bag of coins and a monkey that could get angry at anything, she would always look down and think, “hey, I feel peace, I feel so much peace, I could melt now into the floor.” and then she would melt into the floor when nobody was looking.

  Not everything was nice, though. Sometimes she would wake up and think “Nobody knows me and I don’t know what to do with my life.” I would get naturally a little mad, but then I would tell her, in my head, “you have gone through a few and some other things, sure, but, right now, you are healthy, and you are still young, isn’t there anything you would like to do? At all?” I realized that she never had actually wanted anything, talk about passive motherfucker. Before the surgery, before everything, the only objective, the only wish in her mind, the only thing she wanted was “to be a woman.” I would think “Well you are a woman now, honey, so what do you want to do next?“

  Caruncle would also sometimes wake up thinking, “I don’t even know who I am, I don’t know what I even want in life.”

  “Well, you will figure it out eventually, just try to stay afloat.” I would think about it, hoping she didn’t remember the things that sadden her so much.

  Around that month, Vadorreal had a few sunny weeks, and it was a really welcome change of pace. Since Vadorreal had such a high altitude, but was still in an equatorial zone, the weather could get a bit… unpredictable.It would rain for a bit, then it would be really sunny for a while, and then it would rain again this time harder. It was a bit of a wild city in terms of weather, but well, at least the air was chilly most of the time.

  In any case, with the sunny weeks it felt like people were now in a cheery mood, like people felt better, more optimistic, the flowers outside were shining. Things were… weirdly calmer.

  Caruncle had a flannel nightgown to go to sleep, which was incredibly comfortable. She would usually wake up before dawn, slipping from her cot into the cold. There was usually no time for lingering; so she would diligently pull on her chemise and drawers. No corset, because she could never get used to the damn thing. Her black dress would follow, fastened at the back with stiff fingers, apron pinned, stockings smoothed, shoes buckled. A quick splash of water over her face, then a brush through her hair, twisting it into a tight but not too tight bun. She would smooth her bed sheets, tuck her nightgown away, then press a hand to her chest, just once, before slipping down the stairwell and meeting with the other girls and servants.

  The head maid would send her to a market close by whens he needed to buy anything, since Caruncle didn’t talk, the head maid liked her because she didn’t loiter, she would give her a note with some money and then send her on her way, Caruncle would walk down the hill of the house and after half an hour she would arrive at the market.

  “Miss Elena! How great it is to have you here today!” Some of the merchants would compliment her, and Caruncle would feel butterflies in her stomach yet again.

  She turned, slow and wary, finding Mateo standing at his stall, a burly man of 35 or something with sleeves rolled to his elbows. His stall had a display of tomatoes, some onions, and a few other things. “You favor basil, I see,” Mateo continued, his attempt at nonchalance undercut by the way he rubbed the back of his neck.

  Caruncle nodded once.

  “A good choice,” he pressed on. “You know, a woman like you ought to—ought to have someone cooking for her now and then.”

  She blinked.

  Mateo cleared his throat and gestured vaguely at the array of vegetables. “Did anyone ever tell you I make fine roasted tomato soup? With bread. And butter.” A pause. “You could—well, you could come to my house by sometime. If you wish.”

  Caruncle’s lips parted slightly, then closed again. She considered, with something like pity, how much effort he had put into this, how he had likely rehearsed it in his head.

  She shook her head.

  Mateo’s face darkened, though with embarrassment rather than anger. “Oh,” he said, “well—”

  “Mateo…” came a voice from the side. A woman, perhaps a few years older than Caruncle, wiped her hands on her apron and fixed her brother with an unimpressed glare. “You are so pushy.”

  Mateo sputtered. “I was being polite.”

  “Right, sorry about that.” She looked at her, Caruncle just smiled and waved her hands.

  “You might as well have asked her to marry you, the way you phrased it.”

  Mateo groaned, grabbing a tomato off his stand and throwing it lightly at the woman, who caught it with practiced ease. She tossed it back, and they went on like that, throwing and catching, until Mateo, sighing, turned back to his stall.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  Caruncle picked up her basil and gave her a nod. While walking away from the market I heard her think “people talk like aliens.”

  While walking outside, she used an umbrella, afraid that direct sunlight exposure would hurt her like when she escaped that island, which you don't need to remind me, it was my fault due to falling to exhaustion, whatever.

  There were now a few cars outside, like, actual cars, the first cars ever, there were very few of them, considering that Caruncle lived in a colony and things would always be slow there, but still, it was wild. I thought I was wild at the very least.

  It was weird because… well, cars were becoming a thing, but in day to day life, typewriters were nowhere to be seen.

  Was it really weird though? That cars were now a thing despite stainless steel utensils and typewriters still not appearing anywhere yet? I guess that’s not something you would notice if you didn’t live in the era of these advancements in other worlds and got reincarnated, but what Caruncle had noticed was that not everything was in sync to how it had happened in other instances of history. What if, somewhat, everything was a simulation and then reality felt apart when not all technology could catch up?

  Caruncle thought that perhaps if she came up with the idea of the typewriter maybe she could secure funds and a name.

  “But how do you even create a typewriter? Do you like.. Build all the keys with metal? How was a normal keyboard organized again? Qwertyuiop? Where would I even begin?”

  “As always you are the most stupid person in existence.” I thought. “You have an idea, a great idea, you could build something good, but you don’t even try to think how to build it.

  Could you believe Aspirin wasn’t discovered yet? Now that was really scary.

  Walking up the hill toward Felicity’s home, Caruncle passed through a golden path of flowers—clusters of yellow daylilies and trumpet-shaped golden bells swaying on either side. Each petal caught the light, shimmering like scattered sunlight. At the top of the hill, trailing abutilons hung like tiny bats, while redvein abutilons glowed like lanterns. The house itself was old, its wooden frame weathered, but the garden thrived—foxgloves reaching skyward, violet hydrangeas pooling like ink at the foundation, and glory bushes.

  Caruncle loved staring at those flowers. In the background, she heard the eared doves, the pigeons, and the great thrushes.

  There was also someone calling out her name.

  “Elena? Elena!” Caruncle turned around and saw the head maid calling for her. “Jeez, girl. I was starting to wonder what happened to you, you didn't stay chattering like the others, but you just had to stay there staring at the flowers!” She laughed, she took the basket Caruncle was carrying and pushed her slightly by the shoulders to make her enter the house.”

  “Elena, can you please help me wash the dishes?” One of the maids told her, Caruncle nodded. If there was something that Caruncle liked were those repetitive jobs where she could just doze off a little and daydream.

  This time however, she wasn’t daydreaming, because everyone in the kitchen was bickering.

  “Is that true?” One of the maids said, let’s call her Morphine.

  “Yes, I told her that I she could come in the hours of the evening, I asked to Mr. Balbuena for permission, and he said yes.” Another one said, let’s call her Quinine.

  “How long will she take to make the dress?” Other maid asked, she will be Iodine.

  “I don’t know, she just said she would take my measurements today and ask me what I liked in a dress.”

  “Agnes, I’m so jealous.” Morphine said to Quinine.

  “I know, Betty! I never had a dress tailored just for myself.” Quinine answered.

  “Do you think she would be up to making dresses for the rest of us?” Iodine asked again.

  “You know what Transito? I think she might!”

  “Really?”

  “Yes! She said it was to practice after all, even if she charges us I bet it will be at a discount!”

  “We should totally ask her!”

  “Yes, let’s!”

  “What about you, Elena?” Iodine asked Caruncle. “Would you like to have a dress made for yourself?”

  Elena turned around and shrugged while she made a small o with her mouth and raised her eyebrows.

  “You know Miss Evelyn, right? She’s the one who said she would make us the dresses.”

  Caruncle nodded immediately.

  “Well, I bet you can convince her to make a dress for you too, who knows, maybe she might not even charge you, or if she does, it will be just for the materials.”

  She continued to nod and smiled. The other maids laughed.

  “Elena, you are kinda adorable sometimes.” Morphine snickered.

  “She is, but I can’t help but feel bad for her.” Quinine answered to her. ”But yeah, once she is here I can ask her, and if she says yes maybe I can ask Elena to look for you.”

  “Elena and Miss Evelyn are friends?” Iodine asked.

  “Yes, she usually spends the time with her sometimes when Miss Evelyn is visiting.”

  “Wow, she doesn’t talk and she can make friends already.”

  “That’s just because you are too noisy sometimes, people appreciate someone who knows how to listen.”

  Caruncle kept listening to the maids for a while. It felt oddly relaxing in a way, she looked at the garden outside through the windows of the kitchen, and for a moment she could smell the air from outside. It was such a beautiful day.

  “You women stop bickering!” Felicity butted into the kitchen.

  “Oh, right, I’m going to swipe the second floor, Ms. Adelia told me I have to.” Iodine left.

  “I need to go and ask your grandfather what he wants for lunch today, Miss Felicity, I will be back.” Morphine left as well.

  “I think we need to clean the basement, I will go and take a look.” Quinine left too.

  Felicity and Caruncle were left alone.

  “And you, what do you think you are doing?” Felicity asked her, Caruncle got startled, she looked back at her for a moment and continued washing the dishes.

  “If you think I don’t know who you are, you are dead wrong.” Felicity got closer to her and spoke very quietly, Caruncle froze. “I know you are nothing more than a fucking dyke, and that you want to get into Evelyn’s pants.”

  Caruncle stayed still for a little while and then slowly, very slowly, continued washing the dishes.

  “I know that you want to get closer to her, you probably get wet when she holds your hand, isn’t that right?”

  Caruncle didn’t turn around.

  “If you keep approaching Evelyn, I’m gonna tell you. I will tell, not just Evelyn, but all the maids here, that you are a lousy lesbian and you touch yourself while sniffing the other maids' clothes.”

  Caruncle frowned.

  “That is all, if you keep doing what you are doing, well... don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Caruncle thought about throwing a plate at her every second before she left.