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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 she had no memory ever being touching her purse. Looking down, the new Wendy said the quote "Please don't touch my purse. I know you're just a little boy but you never touch a lady's things" gripping her purse tighter. Further testing her new replacement, Wendy in Brandon's body attempting to ask about the wedges and tried touching them. The new Wendy said the quote "These wedges are mine and I don't feel comfortable letting you wear them" Eventually the real Wendy in Brandon's body left satisfied 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 little boy's behavior. She knew he was only little but he really stressed her out. As she walked down the road, she spotted her reflection in the mirror seeing her brown eyes. 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" The new 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 and having no memory of being innocent 5 year old Brandon.
Once upon a time, a 5-year-old boy named Brandon found himself exploring a grocery store with a few crumpled dollar bills his mom had given him. It was an exhilarating experience for Brandon; the world was at his fingertips. With each can, packet, and bottle he picked up from the shiny store shelves, his excitement and joy grew. Upon leaving the store, his bag crumpled with goodies, he noticed a woman walking aimlessly around the parking lot. Her disheveled yet healthy brown hair gave her a rugged yet oddly comforting air. A name echoed around the lot, a name locals knew all too well, "Wandering Wendy." Brandon, curious as he was, went up to her admiring her peach tank top, those short shorts and her intriguing leather wedges. He pointed at her shoes. Wendy looked down at him, her hardened heart softened by his fascination. Smiling, she said "You wanna try on my funky shoes? I'll try on yours," to which Brandon gleefully agreed. Wendy lifted the small boy into her wedges. For a moment, he felt taller, bigger, like he was seeing the world from a whole new perspective. Soon though, the world shifted, and things grew stranger. As Wendy put on his tiny shoes, she began to change, and so did he. He looked at his feet, larger and fitting perfectly in the wedges. His clothes morphed into the peach tank top and short shorts Wendy had been wearing. His voice deepened and roughened, his entire body growing more mature. Wendy, now resembling little Brandon, proceeded to reach into the purse and showed him her life encased in its contents, including cigarettes and a lighter. Fear and confusion gripped him, and he stammered, "No please, I don't wanna be a big girl." He didn't like the girly shoes or the purse and wanted to return to his small, boyish self. Not heeding Brandon's pleas, Wendy draped the purse around his transformed self. As the purse rested on his shoulder, he felt a wave of her memories washing over him, erasing traces of his own. Soon, all that remained was Wendy. Having completely transformed into Wendy, he didn't remember his life as Brandon. He noticed the tiny boy before him, mimicking his actions, reaching for her purse. She chided him, "Please don't touch my purse. I know you're just a little boy but you never touch a lady's things." The transformation completed, the real Wendy in Brandon's body departed, leaving the new Wendy slightly exasperated at Brandon's childish imitations. She walked down the road, catching her reflection in a glass window, the stark brown eyes stared back at her weathered face. Tears welled up as she mused, "A 42 year old woman and I've got nothing to show for it. 26 years being homeless. I'm such a failure." Shaking away her melancholy thoughts, the new Wendy reached into her bag and lit a cigarette. She adjusted her tank top, ensured her purse was secure on her shoulder, and made sure her wedges were comfortable on her feet. As she strolled into the sunset, trying not to let the endless years of homelessness get to her, she was oblivious to ever having been an innocent 5-year-old named Brandon.
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