Installment #2 of the Barbie Tale, by Amy Friedman

I flopped back on the bed. 
Maybe that wasn’t a mirror. Maybe it was a photograph in a fancy frame. 
So I sat up slowly, watching the mirror. Barbie’s head moved slowly into the frame. 
Lifting my hand, I touched my hair. I watched with horrified fascination as a slender little hand, attached to an impossibly slender arm, reached up and touched those horrid rolled bangs. 
I blinked. The apparition in the mirror blinked. 
I closed my eyes and flopped down again. 
It would seem that I, Barbara Samson, have found myself transformed in my bed into a gigantic Barbie.