Benny makes his security rounds at the museum he worked at. It was storming and lighting outside as he walked the dark hallways of the museum he worked at. Every once in awhile he would stop at his favorite picture that had a nude pregnant woman sitting on a big boulder in a lake. Not too far down from the painting was an African fertility statue.

This is a second person FtM story, I've been kinda intrigued with the idea of writing something in second person for a while. This is a heads up that this story is basically about the reader being turned into a boy and I figure that could be triggering to some people, especially trans women. There's no abuse, but just be careful and maybe give this one a miss if you think that might upset you. Otherwise, enjoy!

A writer is only content twice in their life: When they first think of a story idea and when they receive a check for the book sales.
Unless they’re writing a series; and then it becomes a never-ending Catch-22 of idea beget idea, but it’s needed on page three hundred of book four and not on page ten of the second chapter of book two. That was my life for three years. It was my fault to begin with. I mean, I titled the series “Four Seasons of Love” with the first book called “Autumn Amore”.

Can reality be projected from one mind to another through a common household appliance?