Stacy lead Amanda to the couch.
Her head felt funny, and her thoughts came to her belatedly, as through sludge.
"Uhhm, why do I feel so strange...everything seems off, my voice..."
"Well, that's what happens when you get to be your age."
"My age...I'm...I'm...lemme think...I thought I was 18...though I sound more like..."
"Someone's granny? That is because you are. Remember I said I take care of old people?"
"Hmmm...oh yes, I spose so dearie."
"Here," Stacy told her, bring her a couple of suitcases and a bag. "These are some things that might come in handy for you this week."
"Not seein so well...kin ya do sumpin ta hep me young un?"
"Sure Miss Stacy," she told her, placing the glasses gently on her weathered face."That better?"
"Much sweetie, thankee fer yeer help. But, I'm so...so old," she rattled, examining her wrinkled 89 year old face and white locks in a hand mirror from the bag"Why? Why me?"
"Why not? Just kidding, it's part of my curse."
"What curse? Seems like...eh...ya got theee better eend of thee deal there girlie."
"If I talk about it, I can be affected by it, so needless to say, I don't like to discuss it. Besides, you and any friends that come over or you
have contact with will only experience this until the week is up. So, that isn't so bad, is it?"
"Easy fer you ta say dearie, yeer not usin a cane ta git round with, or havin ta wear Depends, or, or..."
"Oh alright, I'll..."
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