Flashes of Eternity

"When you said our girls, did you mean," I paused.

"Yes," she nodded as if implicitly discerning the meaning of my message. "They are all like you."

There were no words in the English language, or any language for that matter, that could have conveyed what I felt at that very moment.

"I noticed," she continued, as we were walking toward the building. "I noticed your heels! Can you hear yourself while you walk? It really sounds rather like hoofbeats!"

"I had a lot of practice," I reply. "Didn't have much of a choice."

"And you even shake your derriere like a woman!" the female continued. "My, my, the Prophet really has talent! I can't wait to show you around, you've a whole range of courses just waiting for you, from creative writing to horseback riding! Oh, and French, of course, since this is Louisiana!"

"Of course," I mutter to myself with my head still lowered.

"Where are my manners!" I heard another sentence directed at me. "Please, call me Pauline."

"Pleased to meet you, Pauline. I'm Alice."

"Oh, this is even better than the wonderland!" Pauline exclaimed as we walked. "Oh, and I do understand you've never envisioned yourself in this role, I guess what I mean here is.. you probably studied serious manly material, engineering, finance perhaps, and now you're going to have to settle for, well, liberal arts, women's studies and keeping your skirts, hair and heels all nice and clean! Rather embarrassing, the way your priorities have shifted! Just remember I'm here to help you, Alice!"

"That's nice to hear," I replied, barely stopping myself from spouting a string of sarcastic remarks. "May I ask, are you.."

"Am I like you?" she interrupted, as if sensing what I was about to say. "Oh, no! I am one of the Prophet's first witnesses! I am a businesswoman who simply flies with the times!"

"I see."

"I'm sure you do!" the self-proclaimed businesswoman quickly added. "I'm sure you do see that, sweetie!"

Two weeks later. Women's studies class. The auditorium filled with "fair-sexed" students as the heated discussion continued to encompass new territories.

"They call it a pussy pass," one female asserted. "You know, women and children first, you're not drafted.. I mean, I think it's great! All you've to do is sprinkle some shame language here and there and you can manipulate everyone around you! Sure, it's all probably a social construct, but it's still cool, alright?"

"You can shake your rear while singing 9/11 was an inside job to spread the message," another woman muttered. "Then just put it on youtube and I'm sure conspiracy theorists are gonna love it."

Fits of laughter could be heard throughout the auditorium.

"Hey!" another girl exclaimed. "Even Achilles got disguised as a girl to save him from the draft, so this is an old trick!"

"Girls, girls!" the lecturer interrupted the class. "Let's hear what our castrated friend here has to say. I'm sure this will provide us with a.. unique.. insight."

All eyes were on me. Obviously, it would be difficult to hide a secret of that magnitude, especially in a place pretty much controlled by one of the Prophet's puppets.

I knew the unfolding scenario all too well.

"Well," I began after taking a deep breath.

I was sure I represented the innermost fantasies for many women in the class.. a closet dominatrix bent on humiliating anything with a penis, perhaps? There was me, a perfect example that fantasy was no longer an impossible, if not deviant, construct. It was right here, right in front of them.

I kept imagining how many copycats of the Prophet could there be, coming alive, in that very classroom. A scary thought indeed.

With that in mind, I finally said, "I'd rather keep my manhood than trade it for a pussy pass."

The situation was so surreal most women did not utter a single sound.

"Thank God there are no men here," I thought to myself. "Women seem to be more civilized in handling sensitive matters. Unless you step on their toes, that is."

Little did I know; girlish hell was about to break loose.

"The Prophet," one woman almost yelled as if nobody could hear her. "He probably was a psychopath, you know!"

"She's right!" another one quickly added. "People think they're axe-wielding maniacs but this just isn't the case!"

For some strange reason, I imagined my manhood transforming into a literal cock and flying away. Just do not ask me why.