"That thingy that got you must have been one of them movie stars from way back when. Like maybe Marilyn Monroe, you know?"
"I don't believe in ghosts, Mary."
She giggled, "Maybe you should start, hum?"
She had him there. There was simply no reasonable explanation for what was happening to him. He'd never forget the shock of seeing that face in the mirror. Even with makeup on earlier in the evening his face hadn't looked like that of a real woman. Now, without paint and powder, without tricks, it wasn't just female, it was almost beautiful. He looked down at his hand still gripping the coffee cup. His little finger stuck straight out and the other digits formed graceful curves around the cup. Even if he could explain the changes in his face and voice, there was simply no way to explain the res. He let go of the cup and made a fist. There! He could control his muscles but only if he concentrated on the act. "Ghosts?" He murmured.