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Facebook: He was looking at images on Facebook on his ipad until he stopped at one of a blonde woman with almost straight chest length hair wearing crimson lipstick and a brown pillbox hat. The caption said "Beware of the Sorceress." She had blue eyes and long black lashes. She was looking away at something to her left which could not be seen in the picture. She was wearing a black corset and a brown scarf around her neck and two brown bracelets which matched her scarf. She also wore a tiered brown dress which revealed her naked thighs over her lace top vertically striped gothic burlesque stockings and her knee length black leather boots with their silver studs and buckles and their six inch silver stiletto heels. She was sitting on something and her left knee was raised concealing the stocking tops on her right legs and whether she was or was not wearing panties. Was she wearing panties? She seemed too classy not to be. As he looked at her picture he was wearing a white dress shirt with gold buttons and a pinstripe suit. He had brown hair and green eyes yet when he looked at the picture he said, "That's me." She looked nothing like him. What was he thinking? Suddenly fear swept over him. Did Facebook know what he was thinking? He couldn't explain the sudden sense of panic he felt. He had never personally identified himself with a picture on Facebook before even when it was a picture of himself. He had never felt present in a picture before, captured as it were, by the camera. Just by thinking.... Just by thinking it, did it happen? He felt his hair, it seemed to be growing out and becoming blonder. And the lady in the picture's hair changed colour too. Her long blonde tresses fell away as suddenly she got up and took off her hat with her right hand, and bowed theatrically to the camera. Her hand swept down from her left shoulder to the floor and her black corset disappeared to be replaced by a pinstripe suit jacket and a white dress shirt and the skirt fell away to be replaced by pinstripe trousers. He felt the scarf round his neck as he looked down at his breasts, his black corset and brown tiered dress and the boots with the stiletto heels he was now wearing. His arms were naked save for two brown bracelets. He could feel the elastic of his stocking tops as he moved his legs and the breeze against his thighs. He knew now that the lady in the picture had been wearing panties. He laughed a feminine laugh. He was a woman now. I am that woman. "Free at last!" I said to the empty room and closed the iPad on the picture of the resigned looking man in the pinstripe suit who had turned his back on the camera. The iPad had turned into a brown pillbox hat which I put on my head. I wasn't going to get trapped in a picture on cyberspace again. I have a life to live...

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