The Worst Workplace Accident

Bradley was the kind of man who seemed practically built for construction work.

Years spent operating heavy machinery had left him with strong arms, calloused hands, and a respectable collection of stories about accidents that, according to him, had been “nothing serious.”

That morning, he was supervising another earthmoving job on a remote piece of land. The work was straightforward: remove a layer of soil, level the ground, and get everyone home before dinner.

Nothing unusual.

Until lunchtime.

Bradley had just finished his sandwich when he heard a scream.

A woman's scream.

Loud.

And definitely terrified.

He frowned.

“What the hell...?”

It didn't make sense. There weren't supposed to be any women working on the site. None. The company had hired an all-male crew for this stage of the project, and Bradley knew practically everyone by name.

Another scream came from the other side of the site.

Then another.

Bradley put down his sandwich and headed toward the noise.

What he found made his brain simply refuse to process what his eyes were seeing.

There were six women scattered around the construction site.

One was crying.

Another was sitting on the ground, staring at her legs as if she expected them to suddenly return to normal.

A third was desperately trying to close the zipper on a small handbag she was carrying.

And all of them seemed to be talking at once.

“Everybody calm down!” Bradley shouted.

The crowd went silent.

One of the women, still breathing heavily, pointed toward the excavator.

“Norman...”

“What about Norman?”

“I am Norman!”

Bradley stared at her.

Then at the excavator.

Then back at her.

“...Norman?”

She nodded, almost in tears.

“I was operating the excavator. When the bucket hit the ground, I uncovered something. A statue. I thought it was just some piece of stone buried underground. I climbed down to take a look and touched it.”

She pointed toward a small mound of dirt several yards away.

“And then... this happened.”

Bradley folded his arms.

“So you're telling me a statue turned you into women?”

“Yes!”

“All of you?”

“Everyone who was nearby!”

Bradley took a deep breath.

There was nothing he hated more than an absurd explanation for a real problem.

“Right. So you're telling me a magical statue...”

“Yes.”

“...turned a bunch of men into women.”

“YES!”

Bradley rubbed his face.

“I need coffee.”

Despite all the evidence standing right in front of him, he simply couldn't accept it.

Magic.

A statue.

Transformation.

That was the kind of thing that belonged in fairy tales, not on a construction site.

So Bradley did what any responsible supervisor would do.

He picked up his toolbox.

“I'm going over there to check it out.”

“No!” Norman shouted.

“Bradley, don't touch that thing!”

“Relax. I'm just going to look.”

“That's exactly what Norman said!”

But Bradley was already walking.

The closer he got to the statue, the stranger it looked. It was partially buried, covered in dirt and roots, but there was something about it that seemed... wrong.

He crouched down.

Ran his hand across the stone.

Nothing happened.

“See?” he muttered.

Then he noticed a small symbol carved into its surface.

Bradley touched it with his fingertip.

The statue lit up.

“Oh, hell.”

A wave of light swept through his body.

For a few seconds, he felt nothing.

Then came the dizziness.

Then the unmistakable sensation that his entire body was being rearranged.

Bradley tried to steady himself against his toolbox, but even his posture seemed to have changed.

When the light disappeared, he stood perfectly still.

“Bradley?”

He looked down at his hands.

Smaller.

His work shirt had become a white blouse. His work pants were gone, replaced by a short striped crochet skirt.

Even his heavy work boots had disappeared.

His eyes slowly traveled downward.

A small handbag now hung from his arm.

Bradley stood there for several seconds in complete silence.

Then he looked at the other workers.

“...”

Nobody said a word.

Bradley raised one hand.

“Before anyone makes a joke...”

Silence.

“I'd just like to point out that this was not covered in our safety training.”

Norman let out a nervous laugh.

Bradley looked at him.

“Shut up, Norman.”

“Sorry.”

Bradley picked up the handbag.

Or tried to.

The strap was caught around his wrist.

“And this?”

“Your purse,” Norman answered.

“I know it's a purse!”

He opened it.

Inside were a phone.

A lipstick.

A small mirror.

And, to his absolute horror, the keys to his pickup truck.

Bradley immediately closed the bag.

He looked at the magical statue.

Then at himself.

Then at the workers.

And sighed.

“Alright.”

He picked up his toolbox.

“We're shutting the site down for today.”

“What about the statue?”

Bradley stared at the strange object.

“Nobody touches it.”

“And you?”

He paused.

“I already did.”

The worst part, however, was still waiting for him.

Bradley walked back toward the truck, trying to figure out how he was going to explain this to his wife.

Honey, I had an accident at work.

No.

Honey, I found a magical statue.

Even worse.

Honey, remember when you asked if I needed any new work equipment?

He looked at his new clothes.

Then at the handbag.

Then at the delicate strappy sandals now on his feet.

Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose.

Maybe his wife wouldn't even need an explanation.

All she'd have to do was open the truck door.

Bradley sighed.

“I should have believed Norman.”

And for the first time in his entire career, Bradley discovered a truth that no workplace safety manual had ever mentioned:

There is no PPE capable of protecting a worker from a magical statue.

And the accident report?

That would be tomorrow's problem.

Today, he had to figure out how to explain to his wife why his work uniform had turned into a handbag, a skirt, and a white blouse.

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