Erin didn’t want to be a single mother. She needed some help with Damien. After all, since he had full awareness of who he used to be, he was going to be a handful. And of the three options in front of her, Trish seemed like the best fit. Erin generated and altered a bunch of sentences, one right after the other.
“Trish is Tina’s girlfriend.” “Trish is Erin’s girlfriend.” “Trish is Erin’s husband.” “Tristan is Erin’s husband.”
“Tristan is homely.” “Tristan is hot.”
“Tristan is middle class.” “Tristan is upper class.”
“Tristan has a job, like Erin.” “Tristan has a job, unlike Erin.”
Before her eyes, Trish transformed from a scantily-clad young woman into the man of Erin’s dreams, complete with a suit and tie. Trish, now Tristan, caught sight of Erin. He beamed and walked over to her.
“Hello, my darling,” he cooed, kissing Erin’s cheek. There was a rustle with the movement. Erin looked down. Tristan had a distinct diaper bulge around his waist. Erin had never taken him out of diapers. But did she want to?