Evan walked briskly down the dimly lit street, his footsteps echoing in the quiet night. The concert had been great, but the excitement was beginning to fade as he made his way back to his car. He hadn't wanted to pay the steep parking fee at the venue, so he'd parked on a deserted side street a few blocks away. As he approached his car, the chill of the night air seemed to settle in his bones, and he quickened his pace.

Just as he reached his car, something caught his eye---a small, dark shape lying on the sidewalk a few feet away. He frowned and walked over, realizing it was a purse. It looked out of place on the empty street, as though someone had dropped it in a hurry.

Evan glanced around, half-expecting someone to come running back for it, but the street was silent and deserted. Evan didn't want to leave it there. He wanted to make sure it got back to its rightful owner. Bending down, he picked it up, the leather cool against his fingers. The purse was slightly worn but still in good condition, and it had a weight to it that suggested it wasn't empty.

Curiosity piqued, Evan carried it to his car, unlocked the door, and slipped inside. He sat there for a moment, the purse on his lap, before deciding to look inside. He wasn't sure what he expected to find---maybe an ID, a phone, something that would tell him who the owner was.

Opening the purse, he carefully sifted through its contents. There was a wallet with a few bills, some loose change, a set of keys, and a few personal items---lipstick, a compact, and a small notepad. Finally, he found what he was looking for an identification card tucked into a slot in the wallet. The name on the license was "Samantha Greene," and the photo showed a plump woman with a dopey grin and bright eyes. Evan noticed the other information contained on the license: DOB: 6/18/88 (she was 37 years old), height five foot three, weight 170 pounds, eyes: hazel, hair: brown, and most importantly address, 909 Hilldale Avenue.

Evan sighed, his fingers tracing the edge of the license. He knew what he had to do. It didn't feel right to leave the purse where he found it, and he certainly wasn't going to keep it. He started the car and headed toward the nearest police station, the purse sitting on the passenger seat beside him.

He didn't know where the nearest police station was, so he pulled out his phone and asked for directions. "Hey Siri," he called out, "Directions to 909 Hilldale Avenue."

Siri responded, "Straight three blocks, turn left on Southern Blvd."

With the purse on his passenger seat, Evan let Siri guide him. Evan's first change was both the most important and least noticeable, his penis disappeared and was replaced with the vagina of a middle-aged woman.