To the Gentle Beast, Apathy

It started like any other morning. I woke up, rolled out of bed, shuffled downstairs, and started putting on the water for my tea. This is when I realized things were less typical than they had seemed. First, I noticed my forearm and hand were covered in grayish fur. Moving down, I saw my fingers, still five, just like before, only now the thumb and index finger had migrated to the side of my hand. The remaining three were centered at the top of my palm. What sort of devilish night terror was this?

I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I grabbed my phone and took a picture because I couldn't believe what I saw. Surely, the camera wouldn't lie about what stood before me, wouldn't trick or deceive my senses. There it was, right in the frame, the monster I had seen in the mirror.

It was a bear–or I was. A koala bear, although still my regular five-foot ten-inch self. I looked monstrous. I thought koala bears were cuter for some reason, but maybe it's because they're small, and I'm not. If they were all my size, we'd be terrified of them. I was terrified of me.

Calling my girlfriend at that moment may not have been the right move, but had I not done it, I may not have discovered that I couldn't speak until I was face-to-face with somebody. Can you imagine it? A nearly six-foot gray bear approaching you, yipping and grunting every step of the way?

She picked up, and I let out a horrifying shriek. What the fuck was that? I was trying to tell her I needed help, but all I could do was squeal. She asked if this was some kind of prank. The words were there in my mind, but I couldn't form them in my mouth. My throat closed up when I tried, so I stayed silent. She hung up.

What was I to do? Usually, I'd be getting dressed and heading to work right about now. I was covered in fur, so clothes seemed pointless, and I couldn't talk, so work wasn't an option either. I couldn't even call in!

So, I set to writing an email to explain my absence. It took me a solid three minutes to open the laptop and log in, and the message itself took about half an hour. It turns out my fingers aren't very good on a keyboard, so the hunt-and-peck typing technique was all I could manage.

Martha, I apoilogize for the lste notice. I will not be in today. I'm nt feeling well. I'm afraid I hve come down with something quote serious and may nwed to take a few days off from work. I can finosh reports at home, but I will be unsble to attend any meetings remotely.

I had ten minutes left before I was supposed to be at my desk, clocking in. What now?

I shuffled to the living room and curled up on the back of the couch. For some reason, it seemed more comfortable to hug the edge than it did to sit on the cushions. I was right. I was asleep within minutes.

I'm not sure how long I slept, but I was still a koala when I woke up. I found my phone and checked the time. It was 4:30 AM. I had slept the entire day! I hadn't eaten breakfast yesterday and was terribly hungry now. I crawled off my perch and headed toward the kitchen for a snack.

I could get used to this.