Becoming Amelia Bennett

I open my eyes. I am somewhere new. Sitting outside an unfamiliar house. It worked! It must have worked!
My sensations come to me. My body feels new, foreign. I am bombarded by feelings. The touch of long hair on my shoulders, bare legs and a tight dress on my new, much smaller body. The feeling of makeup on my face. My feet in rigid shoes that I know are Amelia’s red high heels.
I am aware that my legs are crossed—something that was uncomfortable as a man, because I had…
Despite all the new sensations I am processing all at once, the absence between my legs stands out to me. I am a woman. God.
This all processes in my mind in what must be split second, as I now realise I am smiling for the camera as someone is taking a photo of me on their phone. Nobody else is at the table yet. I hear voices chatting, they must be inside preparing food or behind the person snapping my photo and socialising. Who is behind the camera?