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Question: Write me a story the way I type about a random 6 year old boy with a description of what state the boy is from, what he looks like, what he sounds like, what he's wearing and what he's doing when he goes to bed. Have him wake up in a sleeping bag in a tent in the body of a homeless woman in another state with a description of what the woman's name ends up being, how old she is, have him be older than somebody he knows he's supposed to be younger than, a women's outfit and feminine sandals, what she sounds like as the boy innocently has no idea what's going on feeling awkward in the new body. Have him try to say mommy but unwillingly speak in the tone of the woman using more mature words and have it be in quoted text. The swap is permanent and the boy is sad.
Once upon a time in Georgia, there was a cherub-faced boy named Tommy. Being merely six years old, he possessed an innocent charm that could coax a smile out of the most stringent souls; he was a creamy-skinned doll with twinkling, sapphire-blue eyes and a mop of sand-brown hair tousling over his forehead. Tommy, being a native Georgian, had an adorable Southern drawl and his voice was as soft and sweet as a caress of the wind. Every night, Tommy slipped into his favorite Spiderman pajamas, each character in vibrant red and blue. Bathed in the soft moonlight filtering through the drapes, he would say his prayers, give a friendly wave to the scattered stars outside his window, and then, after a goodnight kiss from his mother, go to bed. However, one night, Tommy woke up feeling a difference. Instead of his cozy bed adorned with cartoon pillows, he woke up in a sleeping bag inside a rickety tent. He opened his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar state, Arizona, if the topography outside the tent hinted anything. A gasp of disbelief escaped from his lips, but the sound was far from his usual childish tone. It was the sound of a woman, mature and gruff. Anxiously, he looked down and found that his body was no longer his; he was inside the body of a woman that he didn't recognize. His new name, according to the faded ID card in his possession, was Mildred. Mildred was a 50-year-old homeless woman, adorned with ragged women's clothes that were worn and weathered over time, a summer dress perhaps once vibrant, and a pair of feminie sandals that were slightly too big for her feet. That meant he was many years older than his mommy, who he innately knew he was supposed to younger than. Overwhelmed by confusion and in an attempt to make sense of his new reality, Tommy, now Mildred, tried to call out for his mommy. But instead of his young, innocent voice, he heard the woman's voice again, far more mature than anything he'd ever imagine he could sound. "Mama," her husky voice echoed within the confines of her tent, “This woman, she needs your guidance," he subconsciously used more mature language than he would've ever used before this bizarre event. This strange cosmic event had twisted the threads of Tommy's young and innocent life. Now living as Mildred, he tried adjusting to the raw and ruthless streets of Arizona. Every tear that ran down Mildred's weathered cheeks held the innocence and sadness of young Tommy lost in a world he didn't understand, perpetually yearning for the warm, comforting embrace of his mommy.
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