Blue, Pink, and the Curse of Words

Some sentences seem harmless.

Small certainties repeated without thought, inherited from an old world.
But there are words that do more than hurt — they awaken spells.

I know.
I shouldn’t have said those stupid sexist things to my wife.

It had been months — maybe years — of weaving careless remarks, bitter jokes, small certainties thrown into the air as if they were universal truths. Always thinking it was just an opinion, just a joke, just an old-fashioned way of seeing the world.

But I never imagined the breaking point would be something so trivial.

“Boys wear blue. Girls wear pink.”

A simple sentence. Almost childish.
And yet, it was the one that made everything spill over.

I was still finishing the phrase when I saw her expression change. A strange silence settled in the room. Then, in a low voice, she whispered a handful of odd words — harsh syllables that didn’t seem to belong to any language I knew.

The world spun.

When the dizziness faded, I was no longer myself.

Or rather… I was still me, but inside a female body.

And as if that weren’t enough, there was another curse hidden inside the spell: any piece of clothing I tried on instantly turned into its most ultra, mega, absurdly sensual version. Lace, sheer fabric, impossible cuts — and always, without exception, in that damned color.

Blue everywhere.
Like a cruel joke written by fate itself.

Now I’m here, staring at my reflection in the mirror, trying to decide whether I should wait for things to cool down or accept the simple truth: tomorrow I have to go to work.

Because my wife is not crazy.
And I honestly have no idea how I’m supposed to leave the house like this.