Stories

You look down at your hands. They’re gigantic—swollen to three times their normal size, fingers like sausages, impossibly huge. You look at the room around you. It’s shrinking. The walls are closing in. The ceiling is descending. Everything is becoming tiny while you expand to fill the space. Or wait—are you shrinking? The room is growing massive. The doorway has become a cathedral entrance. Your hands are doll-sized. You are small, impossibly small, while the world balloons around you. ...

In December 1880, a 21-year-old woman in Vienna developed paralysis in three limbs, hallucinations, speech disturbances, and a cough with no physical cause. Doctors examined her thoroughly. There was no tumor, no infection, no injury, no disease they could identify. Yet she couldn’t move her right arm or legs. She had violent convulsions. She saw terrifying hallucinations. And for weeks at a time, she could only speak in English—having completely forgotten her native German. ...

In 1975, a 49-year-old woman was admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Kentucky. She told doctors she was transforming into a wolf. She could feel her body changing. She saw fur growing on her hands and face. Her teeth were becoming fangs. Her face was elongating into a snout. She dropped to all fours. She howled. She scratched at the floor. She tried to bite staff members. When shown her reflection in a mirror, she saw a wolf staring back. ...

Every few seconds, Clive Wearing wakes up for the first time. He opens his eyes. He looks around. And he experiences what he believes is his first moment of consciousness after years of being unconscious. He writes in his journal: “8:31 AM: Now I am really, completely awake.” A few minutes later, he crosses it out and writes: “9:06 AM: Now I am perfectly, overwhelmingly awake.” Then he crosses that out too and writes: “9:34 AM: NOW I am awake.” ...

On August 28, 1887, a man was found wandering the streets of Norristown, Pennsylvania, disoriented and unable to say who he was. He knew his name was “A.J. Brown.” He knew he was a stationer. But he had no memory of where he came from, why he was there, or how he’d arrived. Eventually, his identity was discovered: he was Ansel Bourne, a 61-year-old preacher from Rhode Island. Two months earlier, Ansel had left his home to run errands. He withdrew $551 from the bank, boarded a train, and vanished. ...

In 1941, during a German air raid on Norway, a young woman named Astrid L. was struck in the head by bomb shrapnel. She survived. She recovered. But when she started speaking again, something was wrong. Her accent was different. Not slightly different—completely different. She was Norwegian. She’d lived her entire life in Norway, speaking Norwegian with a Norwegian accent. After the injury, she spoke Norwegian with what sounded like a strong German accent. ...

On September 1, 1953, a 27-year-old man named Henry Molaison underwent experimental brain surgery to treat his severe epilepsy. The surgery worked. The seizures stopped. But when Henry woke up, he had lost the ability to form new memories. For the next 55 years, until his death in 2008, Henry lived in a perpetual present. Every person he met was a stranger minutes later. Every conversation was new. Every day was the first day of the rest of his life—literally. ...

A man is waiting for his wife outside a restaurant. A woman approaches him. She’s smiling, clearly recognizing him. She starts talking as if they know each other well. He has no idea who she is. He politely engages, trying to figure out from context clues who this person might be. A colleague? A neighbor? Someone from his wife’s social circle? The woman seems confused by his confusion. She touches his arm, says something about “the kids.” ...

A woman hears the word “Derek” and immediately tastes earwax. Another person sees the number 5 as inherently, unavoidably red. Not because of any association or memory—it’s just red, the way the sky is blue. A musician feels violin notes as textures on his skin—high notes feel smooth and cool, low notes feel rough and warm. A painter sees every letter and number in specific colors. A is red, B is blue, C is yellow. She’s never seen them any other way. ...

A woman looks at her husband of 30 years. She recognizes his face. She knows it’s him. The features, the voice, the mannerisms—everything looks exactly right. But she knows he’s not her husband. She’s absolutely certain. This person is an imposter. An identical copy. A replacement. Her real husband has been taken, and this lookalike has been put in his place. She knows how it sounds. She knows it’s irrational. But the certainty is overwhelming. ...