This doesn’t feel right. Not my hands—they’re grasping strongly. Not my legs—they’re kicking up dust. Yes, I’m youthful again. My heart is strong. But me, I’m wrong. I’m not me. Then who is thinking this? We are. Me and this stranger in my head.

The stem cells have worked, just like the doc said they did in the mice. And the fog of confusion is gone. But I’m not me anymore. These are my stem cells. This is my brain—younger, better, stronger.

But why do I want to jump on that hog and speed away?

.

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here