Male Inflation

or, "The Inflatable Duo's Last Case"

Aislan should have been suspicious the moment he opened the envelope. The greeting card was covered in glitter, which quickly dispersed around the den, spilling on the floor of the den while individual particles remained airborne. What little glitter remained on the card spelled out a simple “Happy Birthday!”

Aislan opened the card. The message read, “Call me when you get this.” It was signed “Cadmus,” his across-the-street neighbour.

The mirror confirmed what Ballard Wilcox feared: He was getting bigger.

There was no change in his diet; in fact, he’d been eating less since he’d become chronically unemployed. Yet his clothes were tighter, his shirts impossible to button, his pants barely closing around his waist. Stranger yet, he gently pinched his puffy arm, and it just felt…light. And hollow. Almost balloon-like.

“Putting on a few, Bal?” his wife Dana chided him from the doorway of the bathroom.