Epilogue:

Mommy opened the back door and unbuckled me from my carseat.    I rubbed my eyes sleepily and sucked on the pacifier between my lips.    Of course, my diaper was wet.    It was always wet when I woke up from naps. "Come on pretty girl.    I heard this shop has great antiques." She held my hand and walked me away from the car, up to the storefront.    Mommy loved shopping, but I wanted to go home and play with my toys.

Marjorie made sure to keep Florence close as she lead her into the store; there was a big road outside, and once inside there were a lot of fragile things. "Wowee, look at all this clutter, don't touch anything, okay? I read online that the owner was a bit cranky sometimes." "Oh that's not a very nice thing to say about someone, is it?" The older woman was dusting a gramophone, and her smile made it clear that she wasn't offended at overhearing things.    As her eyes narrowed on Florence, she smiled with recognition.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mommy told the woman with immediate regret. "I... I didn't mean anything by it." "No trouble, dear." The woman looked at me with a bright smile and I looked up at her with... contemplation?    She seemed familiar, but I swear I never met her before...    I tugged on Mommy's shirt. "Mommy, I wan' ice cream."

"Ice cream is good for growing little bodies, isn't it?" The older woman laughed at the irony and motioned toward the counter. "I don't have any ice cream, I'm afraid. But I do have some candies. Would you like to try some, little one?"

Marjorie thought about reminding her little charge about candy and strangers, but this was a store after all. "Come along, you're only young once, aren't you?" Then she looked at Marjorie and smiled with crinkles in her cheeks. "Well, most of us are. Then again, some kids grow up so fast, and some never grow up at all, do they?"

"Isn't that the truth," Mommy chuckled. "She's three years old and I can't seem to potty train her." "Gosh," the woman mused, "how unfortunate that is." I knew they were talking about me, but I didn't care.    I liked my diapers.    It meant I could play without getting up to go potty. "I wan' a candy, pretty please!" I put out my hands eagerly and Mommy nodded in agreement.

The woman reached down and took a dark wooden box out from beneath the counter, holding it out for the adult babygirl. "Think of your favorite color, little one, then open the box. You can take as many as you like." The box looked ornate, smelled richly of oils and stories, and had a velvet interior; when opened up the candy inside would be exactly the color Florence thought of, and would make for a nice parting gift for the regressed adult. "Now now, don't be shy."

"Pink, pink, pink!" I opened the lid of the box and, sure enough, there was a handful of pink candy.    I reached in and Mommy gave me a sharp look. "You can have two." "But Mommy!    I’m three years old!    So I gets three!” “Fine… three," she conceded.    I took out three pink candies and put one in my mouth.    It tasted like taffy!

Three pieces of candy was more than enough. She could remember, while chewing, that she used to be different, that she used to be an adult, but the moment she stopped eating, those memories flushed away and left her more content with her current life. It was a small blessing, a small window of reprieve, a look back at what her life used to be. It was all the woman could offer to the girl who had very clearly broken the clock. "Where does the time go?" The woman smiled.

Mommy and the woman were looking at some old, ornate animal carvings.    Everything was normal.    Then, it wasn't.    In a remarkable flash, the memories came rushing back.    This place.    The clock.    The curse.    I wasn't a little girl... I was an adult!    Or, I used to be.    I looked up at Marjorie - my best friend - and then down at the baby dress.    For weeks, I’d been wearing diapers without once complaining.    I’d been using them too!    Marjorie took me to daycare, she took me to the park, she let me play with dolls… that was my life now.    Helpless.    Infantile.    Would I ever grow up again?    Or would this curse last forever?

Without thinking, I swallowed the candy.    All the scariness started to fade away.    Each ticking second brought my future closer and closer: that of Marjorie’s little girl.    And… and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.    Awash in my blissful little girl brain, I squatted by the counter and pushed out all those stinky memories into my diaper.

Names & Colors

Florence Marie Everstone

Shopkeeper

Marjorie

Melissa

Chantelle

Agatha

Man

Girl

Mikey