**Transformation at The Enchanted Salon**

Once upon a time in the sunny state of California, there lived a little boy named Ethan Maxwell Anderson. Ethan was a lively and curious seven-year-old who stood at 3 feet 8 inches tall and weighed 45 pounds. With dark brown hair styled in a shaggy cut and bright blue eyes, Ethan was the epitome of youthful exuberance. Born on May 5, 2017, Ethan had a knack for adventure and loved exploring his surroundings. Ethan's mother, Olivia Anderson, was a remarkable woman who gave birth to him at the age of forty-two. Standing at 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing 140 pounds, Olivia was a woman of poise and grace. Her blond hair was always neatly styled into a sophisticated bob, and her green eyes sparkled with wisdom and kindness. Olivia was born on September 9, 1975. Olivia’s sister, Ethan's Aunt Margaret, was an adventurous soul who had a zest for life despite her advanced years. Margaret stood at 5 feet 7 inches and weighed around 145 pounds. Her brunette hair, often tied in a loose bun, and her hazel eyes were warm and inviting. Born on July 13, 1971, Aunt Margaret’s free-spirited nature was something Ethan greatly admired. Ethan's grandmother, Doris Benson, was a matriarchal figure in the family. Even at the age of seventy-seven, she carried herself with dignity. Doris was 5 feet 4 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds, with silver hair styled in soft curls and brown eyes filled with stories of the past. She was born on November 24, 1943, and her birthday usually marked the beginning of the festive season for the family. One warm afternoon, Ethan decided to take a daring step. For the first time, he was going to walk to the local salon alone. His little heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as he pushed open the door to "Ling's Hair Studio." Behind the counter stood Madame Ling, a Chinese woman who carried an air of sophistication mixed with a modern edge. Madame Ling was forty-eight years old, making her six years older than Aunt Margaret. She mentioned once that she stood at 5 feet 3 inches, making her shorter than Ethan’s grandma. Ling weighed approximately 125 pounds. With jet-black hair styled in a contemporary yet traditional manner, and captivating dark eyes, she was an unforgettable sight. She wore a skimpy shirt and shorts, with platform sandals glimmering under the salon lights, her nails painted a deep red. Her fingers were adorned with various rings, and her wrists shimmered with high-end Chinese brand bracelets. A delicate jade pendant hung from her neck, and her ears sparkled with tiny diamond earrings. All her accessories exuded an air of opulence reserved for the elite. Ling narrowed her eyes slightly at Ethan and spoke in halting, heavily-accented English filled with disdain, "You wait here, boy. I go get things for your hair. I not usually cut American hair, only Chinese." Ethan nodded and sat down, feeling the cold floor beneath his feet. Curiosity got the better of him, and while he waited, he slipped off his shoes and socks and wandered around the salon, feeling the cool tiles under his bare feet. A sudden urge seized him, and he yelled out, "I hath to potty!" Without waiting for a reply, Ethan decided that the hallway in front of him must lead to the bathroom. He walked with his head held high, not noticing the platform sandals lying innocently on the floor. With a sudden thud, he tripped over them, losing his balance. As he steadied himself and looked down, he realized he had accidentally slipped into Madame Ling's platform sandals. Panic set in as his clothes evaporated, disappearing into thin air. Terrified, Ethan tried to take off the sandals, but to his horror, his feet began to crack and age, transforming into those of a woman’s, complete with red nail polish. He frantically pulled at the straps, feeling them loosen slightly and slowing the changes. However, despite his efforts, the transformation crept up his legs and into the rest of his body. "I'm gonna mith mommy and grandma tho much. I didn't do anything wrong. I jutht hath to potty," Ethan whimpered through tears, his voice lisping as he felt more changes taking over. His head and face shifted, his features morphing to mirror Madame Ling’s exactly. In his heart, Ethan inexplicably felt he was not much younger than his grandma and far older than his mom and Aunt Margaret. The thought was too much, causing him to cry out in despair. In a desperate attempt to calm himself, Ethan began to sing a song his mother had taught him whenever he felt scared. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are…” As his memories faded, his voice and accent changed until he was singing a traditional Chinese communist song: "国旗, 旗的方正..." (Guóqí, qí de fāng zhèng...) Madame Ling's face lit up with a smile as she completed the song. She glanced down at the outfit which had seamlessly formed on her body, along with her loose platform sandals. She spotted her jewelry and wedding ring nearby and strutted over to put them on. With care, she added each piece to her outfit. The jade pendant, the diamond earrings, the rings and bracelets, and finally, the wedding ring settled firmly on her finger. Feeling slightly unsteady, she stumbled to a chair and adjusted the loose platform sandals on her feet, pushing the straps back to secure them tightly. As she did, memories surged, and she remembered removing her jewelry and slipping into her platform sandals earlier, causing a chill to run through her. Reality flickered, adjusting to the absence of Ethan. Madame Ling vaguely thought she saw the ghost of a little boy, which frightened her. In Mandarin, she announced her fear, “我看到一个小男孩的鬼魂！” (Wǒ kàn dào yīgè xiǎo nánhái de guǐhún!)—“I think I saw the ghost of a little boy!” She looked around nervously before shrugging and tidying up the salon more thoroughly. “我在做什么？” she muttered in broken English filled with confusion, “I wonder what I doing,” deciding it was more comfortable to switch back to Mandarin. Her gaze settled on her wedding ring, and she smiled, saying, "我很感谢我的丈夫李和我们的女儿丽丽和美美" (Wǒ hěn gǎnxiè wǒ de zhàngfū lǐ hé wǒmen de nǚ'ér lìlì hé měiměi)—"I am grateful for my husband, Li, and my daughters, Lily and Mimi.” Ling remembered she had moved to America in 1998. She started humming another communist Chinese song while continuing her routine, “东方红, 太阳升,” (Dōng fāng hóng, tàiyáng shēng). Ling locked up the salon for the night, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over her. The nighttime shadows made her uneasy, and she whispered to herself in Chinese, "别害怕，别害怕" (Bié hàipà, bié hàipà)—"Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid,” trying to calm herself. Upon reaching home, the quietness struck her with an eerie sense. "大家在这里吗？李, 你在家吗？ 丽丽，美美，我的女儿们，你们在家吗？" (Dàjiā zài zhèlǐ ma? Lǐ, nǐ zàijiā ma? Lì lì, měiměi, wǒ de nǚ'érmen, nǐmen zàijiā ma?)— “Hello everyone, are you here? Li, are you home? Lily, Mimi, my daughters, are you home?” Feeling the cold breeze on her legs, she set her purse down and walked into the hallway in front of a mirror. Catching sight of her reflection, she smiled and laughed, "不老看, 四十八岁! 我记得学习的英文在年 1998 年, 我在中国的学校完成于 1990 年" (Bù lǎo kàn, sì shí bā suì! Wǒ jìdé xuéxí de yīngwén zài nián 1998 nián, wǒ zài zhōngguó de xuéxiào wánchéng yú 1990 nián)—"Not bad looking for 48 years old! I remember learning English in 1998, finishing school in China in 1990.” Ling walked over to a nearby picture. It was a photo of her younger self and her family, taken in 1988 to mark her graduation from high school. She reminisced aloud, "我记得这张照片 它是 1988 年的 是因为毕业" (Wǒ jìdé zhè zhāng zhàopiàn, tā shì 1988 nián de, shì yīnwèi bìyè)—“I remember this photo; it was taken in 1988 because of my graduation.” Reaching for something on a high shelf, Ling struggled on her tippy toes despite wearing her platform sandals. "希望我不在家, 我真的想要从顶架上拿到, 如果 这里, 或 还是" (Xīwàng wǒ bù zàijiā, wǒ zhēn de xiǎng yào cóng dǐng jià shàng ná dào, rúguǒ zhèlǐ, huò háishì)—“I wish I wasn’t home alone. I really want that from the top shelf. If only [my husband] was here,” she muttered. She glanced down at her platform sandals and remembered vividly the first time she wore them back in 1988, a graduation gift from her mother. "我记得得到这双鞋 是因为毕业从我的母亲 这双鞋有三十年了我是十八岁" (Wǒ jìdé de dào zhè shuāng xié, shì yīnwèi bìyè, cóng wǒ de mǔqīn zhè shuāng xié yǒu sānshí niánle, wǒ shí bā suì)—“I remember getting these sandals for graduation from my mother. I’ve had them for thirty years since I was eighteen.” Ling bent down to admire the sandals up close, feeling a wave of nostalgia. Eventually, she decided to go to bed, still wearing her outfit and platform sandals. As she drifted off to sleep, she dreamt of her younger days in China, wearing something traditional. In her dream, she blinked and suddenly saw her past self running around. But as she looked down, she realized she was wearing her mother’s outfit. Startled, she found a nearby mirror and saw her mother’s reflection staring back at her. “妈妈? 我怎么是你? 不可能，你应该…” (Māmā? Wǒ zěnme shì nǐ? Bù kěnéng, nǐ yīnggāi…)—“Mom? How am I you? It can't be, you're supposed to be...” Ling jerked awake, heart pounding, but feeling more comfortable back in her own body. She was back in her room, platform sandals snug on her feet. The events of the day felt hazy, almost like a distant memory. She sighed deeply, grateful for the life she led, but secretly always haunted by a question of what had transpired earlier that day.