'Ugghhh, my head,' you think to yourself. You look at the ceiling as you lay quietly on the ground. 'What happened,' you ponder as you roll onto your side to get up. That's when you notice it your hands look different. Something just a little off.
"Mom?" you holler, almost startling yourself. 'That's not my voice,' you notice as you quickly realize something very strange is going on. You try to clear your throat a few times, but it is of no avail. Looking down at yourself, you notice that you are still wearing the blue jeans and t-shirt, but it doesn't look quite right. Your flabby arms are stretching the sleeves taught, and if you didn't know better, you'd swear you had breasts. Raising your new, foreign hand you bring it up to your chest, fearing the worst. Pointer-finger outstretched, you poke the new mounds on your chest, verifying their existence. You closed your eyes, terrified at what you were experiencing.
Looking down one more time to inspect the inevitable, you see your hand. It was weathered, slightly darker than my own hand, no doubt from the years of gardening and spending time outdoors. But there was still a slight elegance to it. Your fingernails were just slightly longer, with just a small taper on them. There was no nail polish, but it was obvious these nails were taken care of. Your fingers were thin, gone were my bulging knuckles, replaced by smaller, ball-bearing like joints. There were veins running through your hands.
Knowing that you couldn't just lay here all day, you decided to investigate what you had just experienced. Standing up, you almost get a sense of vertigo. Your new perspective was udderly strange. Each step, you feel your aged body tremble, jiggle, and vibrate under the impact of your feet. Your thighs rubbed together slightly, and you feel your new, large ass raise and lower with each step. Your love handles protruded slightly over the beltless denim of the bluejeans you were wearing, which were stretched taught from your excess weight. You could tell you weren't wearing a bra, as your new breasts were losing the battle of age, time, and gravity.
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