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Question: Story: Write me a story about 5 year old Brandon shopping at the store for the first time alone with money his 25 year old mom gave him. Grabbing what he wanted, he just couldn't get over how free he felt being able to shop. As he started walking through the parking lot, he got stopped by 42 year old Wendy aka Wandering Wendy. She was a homeless woman who had been homeless since she was 16 after a bad falling out with her parents. Her brown hair neck length but healthy, she wore a peach tank top, short shorts and a pair of leather wedges with a purse on her shoulder. Looking up at the woman, Brandon pointed at her shoes to which Wendy's heart softened as she removed her wedges. Wendy said the quote "You wanna try on my funky shoes? I'll try on yours" Brandon was intrigued and removed his own shoes before holding Wendy's wedges in his hands. Wendy gently picked him up lifting him into her wedges. As Brandon felt his feet touch the wedges, he felt so tall and so big. Happy, Brandon put his arms up expecting Wendy to lift back out of the shoes but as he looked over he noticed Wendy now looked exactly like him. Just as he did, he looked down to his own feet noticing they were growing and aging into a perfect fit for the wedges. Crying, Brandon felt his whole body getting older and taller as he began to look more and more like Wendy. Her peach tank top and short shorts forming on his body as his voice slowly turned into hers. Wendy now looking like Brandon help up her a purse and grabbed each item showing Brandon what they were and what they were for including the cigarettes and the lighter. As Wendy approached him with the purse, Brandon tried backing up but tripped in his new wedges. Bending down and trying to remove them from his new adult female feet, he struggled to and started crying. Brandon said the quote "No please, I don't wanna be a big girl" adding he didn't like the girly shoes or the purse and didn't wanna wear them. Wendy failed to listen to him as she shoved her purse on to Brandon's new female shoulder holding it in place on him. As the purse rested on his shoulder, Brandon felt the last of his own memories and childlike personality fading and maturing until he only remembered being Wendy. The new Wendy blinked before noticing the little boy touching her purse. Looking down, the new Wendy said the quote "Please don't touch my purse. I know you're just a kid but you never touch a lady's things" Further testing her new replacement, Wendy in Brandon's body attempting to ask about the wedges and tried touching them while the new Wendy who no longer remembered being Brandon wore them. The new Wendy said the quote "These wedges are for my feet only. They are women's shoes and I don't think you would like them anyway" Eventually Wendy in Brandon's body left satisfied and convinced she had successfully made the real Brandon think he was always a homeless woman named Wendy. The new Wendy was slightly hurt and frustrated at the kid's behavior. She knew he was only little but why did he care so much about her stuff. As she walked down the road, she spotted her reflection in the mirror. Holding back tears, the new Wendy said the quote "A 42 year old woman and I've got nothing to show for it. 26 years being homeless. I'm such a failure" Wendy then grabbed a cigarette out of her purse lighting it up to calm herself down before making sure her purse was secure on her shoulder and making sure her wedges were completely on her feet before strutting down the road trying not to let her long-lasting homelessness bother her never having memory of being innocent 5 year old Brandon.
Once upon a time, a wide-eyed five-year-old named Brandon embarked on an adventure to the local grocery store. His mom, a young and busy 25-year-old had given him money to buy something special. It was his first time shopping alone, and the thrill of freedom coursed through his small frame as he carefully selected his items. That was when he crossed paths with Wendy, known to locals as 'Wandering Wendy'. Now 42 years old, Wendy had been surviving the streets since she was just 16, when a painful falling out with her parents had left her homeless. Yet despite her circumstances, Wendy carried herself with resilience. Her neck-length brown hair was unusually healthy for someone on the streets, and she wore a peach tank top, short shorts, and a pair of stylish leather wedges that she'd found – discarded but still in good shape – during one of her many wandering adventures. As they met in the parking lot, young Brandon, in his innocence, pointed to Wendy's wedges, tugging at Wendy's heartstrings. In a generous impulse, Wendy crouched down with a smile and offered, "You wanna try on my funky shoes? I'll try on yours." This lighthearted gesture fascinated Brandon, who quickly swapped his children's tennis shoes for her wedges. Suddenly he felt tall, no longer a small child but someone giant and important. But the strangest thing happened; when he lifted his gaze from the wedges, he saw Wendy, but she no longer looked like herself. Instead, she looked like little Brandon. And as Brandon stared at this odd doppelgänger, he noticed his once small feet fitting perfectly into the wedges and his body growing taller. His clothes morphed into Wendy's tank top and shorts, his voice dropped to match hers, and his young, innocent child's body aged rapidly. Panicking, Brandon began to cry and protests, "No please, I don't wanna be a big girl!" But Wendy, now in his little five-year-old body, continued to introduce him to her adult life. She showed him the contents of her worn-out purse, the cigarettes, the lighter – all the necessities of her survival. The more Brandon pleaded, the less Wendy seemed to listen. He felt trapped in a body that was no longer his, and with the weight of her purse on his now-feminine shoulder, his memories began to fade until all that was left was Wendy's years of living on the street. His transformation was complete. Staring at the child version of herself, the new Wendy warned in a stern tone, "Please don't touch my purse. I know you're just a kid but you never touch a lady's things," and reinforcing the divide by ensuring he couldn't touch her wedges, "These wedges are for my feet only. They are women's shoes, and I don't think you would like them anyway." Before too long, the child Wendy left and the new Wendy was alone. Though she felt a sting of pain at the young boy's behaviour, she shrugged it off, blaming it on his age. As she caught her reflection in a nearby shop window, all she saw was a homeless woman, now aged 42 to match her memories. "A 42-year-old woman and I've got nothing to show for it. 26 years being homeless. I'm such a failure," she sighed. Grabbing a cigarette from her purse to calm her nerves, she adjusted the old leather wedges on her feet and the purse on her shoulder, and started wandering down the street again. As she strutted proudly, she suppressed the memories of her homeless life, focusing instead on maintaining her newfound dignity and never looking back to the life she'd once lived as a blissfully innocent 5-year-old boy named Brandon.
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