, not rented

- Allyn Crowe

Nevan woke up a stranger in his original body. With horror he watched as his hands – small, feminine hands, reached for the device on his head and threw it off. Dazed, he sat in the machine, trying to comprehend what happened. Natasha had stolen him.
Anger filled him. He wanted to scratch the nail polish from his nails – her nails. To tear off the heavy breasts and hips that she had coveted so much. In anger he threw the device that allowed this across the room. It landed before hitting the wall. Why?
A thousand answers filled his mind. Greed, stubbornness; selfishness. None of it satisfied the question. Why me?
"Ma'm?" A flashlight shone onto him. He didn't respond; he never wanted to respond to it ever again. He hadn't had to respond to it for over a year.
"Ma'm?" The voice reinstated. He shook his head.
"I'm not a madam!" He shouted in anger. "I'm not a woman!" He desperately cried out. "She stole me, she stole my body!"

The police didn't believe him. A woman born into a man's body had stolen the original body back? That seemed far too complicated for them to burn their hands on. So he attempted to sue to get her arrested.
The charge of theft was dropped: you couldn't steal the body you were born in. It did not matter how much he tried to plead to the court that it wasn't his body that she had stolen, but the feeling of it being right.

Why?

Why me?

but the feeling of it being right

Based on the short story 'Rented, not sold'

by Calvin Gimpelevich, in 'Invasions' (2018)