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Question: Question: Story: Write me a story the way I write about a random 5 year old boy with a description of what state the boy is from, what he looks like, what he's dressed in, what he's doing and when he goes to bed. Have him wake up in the body of a woman in America in the 1940s with a description of the woman's dress, her hairstyle, where she was and her jewelry and accessories and have him walk to a mirror freaking out at his new reflection. Please have the boy unwillingly do feminine things in his body like admiring himself and putting more jewelry on or putting on lipstick or putting on heels. Please have the boy try to say he's scared and misses his mommy but have him unwillingly say it in the way a woman in the 1940s would with the slang included and have it be in quoted text.
Story: In the hillside landscapes of Tennessee lived a jovial five-year-old boy named Eli. He bore features as unforgettable as his spirit - twinkling blue eyes, a mop of curly golden hair, and a mischievous grin usually dirty with the remnants of his daily exploits. He was dressed casually, his worn-out denim dungarees barely holding onto one strap, revealing a white tee streaked with grass stains. Captivated by the world around him, Eli could often be found chasing butterflies, building mud castles, and plummeting fearlessly from lofty tree branches, until the moon's first appearance heralded bedtime. One night, after an exhausting day shadowboxing with the wind, Eli fell onto his bed, drifted into restless sleep. When he woke up, he discovered himself in an entirely different epoch and body. He was now immersed in the sepia tones of 1940s America but, more shockingly, within the body of a well-dressed woman. He gazed down in disbelief at a tailored dress in a delicate could-be polish of bottle green, outlining a figure he didn't recognize. The waves of auburn hair that fell elegantly over his shoulders bore witness to a time he'd seen only in the pages of his school books. He perceived the subtle weight of a golden locket around his neck and a matching bracelet on his left wrist, threaded with pearls of the purest white. He couldn't pry away from the stupefaction in his cerulean eyes reflected from the gold-rimmed mirror. He reached upwards and felt a small pillbox hat adorned with a simple veil adding to her elegance. Eli, now Edith in this strange circumstance, couldn't help but take a moment to admire this woman's beauty which he was residing in. With shaky hands, he reached onto the wooden dresser, grabbing a shiny lipstick tube delicately and applying a deep crimson hue onto his new set of lips. It felt strange, ticklish, and a bit frightful. He decided to attempt walking and, to his discomfort, had to do so in a pair of glossy burgundy heels. Each new feminine task inciting fear and apprehension in him. Overwhelmed, Eli turned Edith tried to voice his fears, but in an elegant feminine tone spiced with 1940's slang, he blurted out, "I'm all wet, see! I'm practically in a lather! I miss my mama something fierce!" His plight was real, though wrapped in the seemingly incongruous elegance of a lady from the '40s. His new reality, however bizarre and unfamiliar, was yearning for remembrance of the past and the warmth of his mother's presence. Eli was truly lost in time, wearing a lady's gown and longing for his worn-out dungarees.
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