A Walk Home
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Title: A Walk Home
James was a mere seven years old, but today was momentous. Today, he had his mother’s permission to walk home alone for the very first time. His mother, Melanie, was twenty-eight years old, born on September 15, 1994. Standing at 5'6" and weighing 135 pounds, she possessed long, chestnut hair styled in soft waves and bright green eyes that always seemed to sparkle with life.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows on the sidewalk as James set off. His small legs carried him swiftly, his backpack bouncing lightly with each step. He was filled with a mix of pride and nervousness, an emotion that fluttered in his belly like excited butterflies.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a woman sitting against the brick wall of a building. She was older, probably about forty-five, and looked tired. Her name, though unknown to James, was Linda. She was born on March 3, 1977. At 5'4" and around 160 pounds, she wore a tank top and short shorts that had seen better days, paired with somewhat incongruous leather wedges. Her hair was a dull, faded blonde, cropped short and matted, and her eyes were a weary shade of blue. She had a worn purse slung over her shoulder and was clutching items you might find discarded on city streets: a lighter, burnt foil, and other unmentionables.
James blinked. When his eyes reopened, Linda was no longer there. All that remained were her belongings: the purse, burnt foil, leather wedges, and the other feminine items. Suddenly, an uneasy feeling crept over him.
"Ew, I just wanna get home," he muttered to himself as he walked by.
Without warning, James tripped over something unseen, causing him to stumble. In the chaos, his shoes and socks somehow slipped off his feet and dislodged themselves. Horrified, his bare feet ended up stepping into the leather wedges.
"Ew, girly shoes like mommy wears!" he exclaimed, kicking them off in disgust. But a tingle started in his feet, spreading through every nerve ending.
He watched in shock as his little boy feet began to change, toes elongating, nails growing and shaping themselves into a more feminine form. His arches lifted, skin softened, and delicate veins appeared just below the surface. Next, his legs followed suit, stretching and changing. Muscles smoothed over, his calves gradually taking on a more defined and feminine curve.
"No, no, no, no! I don't wanna be a girl!" James screamed as his torso began shifting. His waist narrowed, and his ribcage took on a tapering shape. He felt his chest pulling and pushing, a sensation beyond comprehension. Desperate, he pulled at his shirt, trying to stop the changes, but it was futile.
His arms thinned out next, fingers elongating and nails growing. He clutched his wrists in a vain attempt to restrain the transformation. But resistance was futile, and his once sturdy arms now looked slender and delicate.
Lastly, his head and hair began to change. James’s brown hair lengthened, morphing into dirty blonde locks. His eyes changed from deep brown to steel blue, every inch of his baby-fat face retreating into a more angular, mature structure. He tried to hold his head, pressing his temples and cheeks, but nothing could stop the inevitable march of time.
The transformation was almost complete when the same clothes Linda was wearing earlier materialized onto his body. The tank top hung loosely at first but soon fit snugly against his newly changed form. Short shorts wrapped around his hips, and a sense of desperation welled up in him. He yanked at the clothes, trying to tear them off.
"I don't want this!" he cried, but the tank top and shorts remained.
His gaze shifted to the leather wedges he'd kicked away earlier. A strange compulsion rose within him to put them back on, but he shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. His memories began altering next. Where once there were summer vacations and birthday parties, memories of living on the streets replaced them. A tough life clouded his young mind, and the last vestiges of James faded.
Linda blinked in confusion, looking down at her now bare feet.
"Why am I barefoot?" she muttered, perplexed. She spotted the leather wedges and sat down to put them on. Slowly, she slid the first wedge onto her foot, the soft leather wrapping around as though it belonged. Repeating the process on the other foot, she tightened the strap securely.
Spying her purse and foil on the ground, Linda stood and walked effortlessly in the wedges. She grabbed everything in one swift motion and shoved the items back into her purse. Flipping through her cracked phone to check the time, Linda panicked.
"Oh shit, it's almost 10 PM! I better hurry before Walgreens closes. I need more foil because I need some more fentanyl. I don't care; I ain't paying neither. I dare anyone to touch me. I may be 45 years old, but my street name is Wild Linda for a reason. I'm homeless, but I've survived worse. Don't fuck with me! I've been homeless for 5 years, and I just don’t give a shit anymore. I just stabbed another woman on the streets last week for territory."
With no memory of who she used to be, Linda hurried into Walgreens just before the closing time. She grabbed anything she needed: packets of foil, a bottle of vodka, and several cans of beer, shoving them all into her purse.
The female security guard noticed her.
"Ma'am, we're closing now. Time to come up front. Are you done?" she asked calmly.
"Yeah, I'm done," Linda lied flawlessly. "I'm just waiting for my husband. He's coming to pick me up."
As soon as the security guard shifted her attention, Linda ran out without paying, her former life as little James now forgotten forever.
This story was generated by user manemansteve with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: story about 7 year old James in the year 2022 walking home alone for the first time with permission from his young mom. Include his mom's name and age, birthday, birth year, height, weight, hair color and style and eye color. Have him see a homeless woman wearing a tank top, short shorts and leather wedges with a description of the whole outfit. Include the woman's name, age being 15+ years older than his mom, birthday, birth year, height, weight, hair color and style and eye color. Have her be carrying a purse on her shoulder and have her be holding things in her hands a homeless woman might hold with a description of the feminine items and a lighter and burnt foil and other nasty stuff. Have him blink and suddenly no longer see the woman but have him see the purse and the foil and leather wedges and other feminine items and the other nasty stuff with the nasty stuff mentioned. Have the boy get confused and nervous as he walked by and have him say ew I just wanna get home and have it be in quoted text. Have him suddenly trip over something causing him to lose his shoes and socks somehow and have his feet slip into the leather wedges and have him get grossed out and saying ew girly shoes like mommy wears and have it be in quoted text kicking them off. Have his feet start tingling cracking and aging feminizing and maturing into female feet with a slow very detailed step by step description of it happening. Have him freak out as his legs lengthened and feminized and matured with a slow very detailed step by step description of it happening. Have him say no no no no i don't wanna be a girl and have it be in quoted text. Have his torso and chest feminize and mature with a slow very detailed step by step description of it happening and have the boy try to pull on his torso and chest stopping the changes with a description of what he did. Have his arms and hands feminize and mature with a slow very detailed step by step description of it happening and have the boy try to do something to stop his hands and arms from changing with a description of what he tried to do. Have his head and hair feminize and mature changing hair color and eye color as his voice matured into a female but with missing teeth with a slow very detailed step by step description of it happening to every inch of his face and have the boy try to stop his head from changing. Have the same outfit the homeless woman was wearing earlier form on him with a slow very step by step detailed description of it happening with the color of the outfit mentioned and be consistent in the story and have the boy try in vain to remove the clothes saying what he did. Have the boy's gaze shift over to the wedges feeling an urge to slip them on before shaking his head and crying. Have his memories start changing and maturing and hardening until he only remembered being the homeless woman minus the fact she wasn't with her purse and stuff and wedges. Have the homeless woman blink in confusion as she looked down at herself and noticed she was missing stuff. Have her say why am I barefoot and have it be in quoted text adding more words to the quoted text to show her confusion. Have her go over to her leather wedges sitting down. Have her put the first one on her foot with a slow very detailed description of her doing it step by step. Have her put the next one on her other foot with a detailed description of her doing it step by step. Have her spot her purse and foil and have her now walk effortlessly and fast in the wedges with a detailed description of how she walked and what she did. Have her pick up her foil and her other feminine items from earlier being consistent with what they are shoving all of them in her purse. Have her pull her cracked phone out to check what time it is freaking out. Have her say oh shit it's almost ____ i better hurry before Walgreens closes i need more foil cause i need some more fent _____ i don't care i ain't paying neither i dare a bit___ to touch me i may be __ years old my street name is ____ cause i ____ i'm homeless but i've _____ in the past don't fuck with me i've been homeless for __ years i just don't give a ___ anymore i just ____ another woman on the streets last week for _____ and have it be in quoted filling in the blanks having no memory of who she used to be. Have her walk into the Walgreens just before closing time and have her grab tons of stuff shoving it in her purse with descriptions of everything she grabbed including foil and adult beverages and which ones they were. Have a female security guard calmly watch and say ma'am we're closed now time to come up front are you done and have it be in quoted text. Have the homeless woman say yeah i'm done and have it be in quoted text and have her go on about how she's waiting for someone and who it is and have it be in the quoted text too lying to the guard. Have her then run out without paying having no memory of who she used to be.
Response: Title: A Walk Home James was a mere seven years old, but today was momentous. Today, he had his mother’s permission to walk home alone for the very first time. His mother, Melanie, was twenty-eight years old, born on September 15, 1994. Standing at 5'6" and weighing 135 pounds, she possessed long, chestnut hair styled in soft waves and bright green eyes that always seemed to sparkle with life. The afternoon sun cast long shadows on the sidewalk as James set off. His small legs carried him swiftly, his backpack bouncing lightly with each step. He was filled with a mix of pride and nervousness, an emotion that fluttered in his belly like excited butterflies. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a woman sitting against the brick wall of a building. She was older, probably about forty-five, and looked tired. Her name, though unknown to James, was Linda. She was born on March 3, 1977. At 5'4" and around 160 pounds, she wore a tank top and short shorts that had seen better days, paired with somewhat incongruous leather wedges. Her hair was a dull, faded blonde, cropped short and matted, and her eyes were a weary shade of blue. She had a worn purse slung over her shoulder and was clutching items you might find discarded on city streets: a lighter, burnt foil, and other unmentionables. James blinked. When his eyes reopened, Linda was no longer there. All that remained were her belongings: the purse, burnt foil, leather wedges, and the other feminine items. Suddenly, an uneasy feeling crept over him. "Ew, I just wanna get home," he muttered to himself as he walked by. Without warning, James tripped over something unseen, causing him to stumble. In the chaos, his shoes and socks somehow slipped off his feet and dislodged themselves. Horrified, his bare feet ended up stepping into the leather wedges. "Ew, girly shoes like mommy wears!" he exclaimed, kicking them off in disgust. But a tingle started in his feet, spreading through every nerve ending. He watched in shock as his little boy feet began to change, toes elongating, nails growing and shaping themselves into a more feminine form. His arches lifted, skin softened, and delicate veins appeared just below the surface. Next, his legs followed suit, stretching and changing. Muscles smoothed over, his calves gradually taking on a more defined and feminine curve. "No, no, no, no! I don't wanna be a girl!" James screamed as his torso began shifting. His waist narrowed, and his ribcage took on a tapering shape. He felt his chest pulling and pushing, a sensation beyond comprehension. Desperate, he pulled at his shirt, trying to stop the changes, but it was futile. His arms thinned out next, fingers elongating and nails growing. He clutched his wrists in a vain attempt to restrain the transformation. But resistance was futile, and his once sturdy arms now looked slender and delicate. Lastly, his head and hair began to change. James’s brown hair lengthened, morphing into dirty blonde locks. His eyes changed from deep brown to steel blue, every inch of his baby-fat face retreating into a more angular, mature structure. He tried to hold his head, pressing his temples and cheeks, but nothing could stop the inevitable march of time. The transformation was almost complete when the same clothes Linda was wearing earlier materialized onto his body. The tank top hung loosely at first but soon fit snugly against his newly changed form. Short shorts wrapped around his hips, and a sense of desperation welled up in him. He yanked at the clothes, trying to tear them off. "I don't want this!" he cried, but the tank top and shorts remained. His gaze shifted to the leather wedges he'd kicked away earlier. A strange compulsion rose within him to put them back on, but he shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. His memories began altering next. Where once there were summer vacations and birthday parties, memories of living on the streets replaced them. A tough life clouded his young mind, and the last vestiges of James faded. Linda blinked in confusion, looking down at her now bare feet. "Why am I barefoot?" she muttered, perplexed. She spotted the leather wedges and sat down to put them on. Slowly, she slid the first wedge onto her foot, the soft leather wrapping around as though it belonged. Repeating the process on the other foot, she tightened the strap securely. Spying her purse and foil on the ground, Linda stood and walked effortlessly in the wedges. She grabbed everything in one swift motion and shoved the items back into her purse. Flipping through her cracked phone to check the time, Linda panicked. "Oh shit, it's almost 10 PM! I better hurry before Walgreens closes. I need more foil because I need some more fentanyl. I don't care; I ain't paying neither. I dare anyone to touch me. I may be 45 years old, but my street name is Wild Linda for a reason. I'm homeless, but I've survived worse. Don't fuck with me! I've been homeless for 5 years, and I just don’t give a shit anymore. I just stabbed another woman on the streets last week for territory." With no memory of who she used to be, Linda hurried into Walgreens just before the closing time. She grabbed anything she needed: packets of foil, a bottle of vodka, and several cans of beer, shoving them all into her purse. The female security guard noticed her. "Ma'am, we're closing now. Time to come up front. Are you done?" she asked calmly. "Yeah, I'm done," Linda lied flawlessly. "I'm just waiting for my husband. He's coming to pick me up." As soon as the security guard shifted her attention, Linda ran out without paying, her former life as little James now forgotten forever.
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