Quiet as a mouse and still as a stone, you lie in wait in the hollow of your neighbor’s navel under the strobe-like effect of Ms Summers’ fingers passing above you several times, each run of the ironwood mega-logs followed by a whiffing gust of wind that brings down a dry, modest cool to your warm, wet alcove; followed by a stronger whirling sound once her palm passes overhead instead, though only briefly. The first few runs of her sweep give you a few shocked looks, as it seems that her fingers will press into her belly button with enough force to squash you against her flesh; but you then notice that it’s simply her hand pressing down slightly on her pudgy stomach – a move that inconspicuously displaces some dew drops from her tan abdomen into the void of her belly button creating a small pool of your own at your feet.
Waiting for this freight-train to pass by, you begin to relax yourself after Kara; after all, she wouldn’t want a guest to have a rough time. Steadfast you begin to slide your back down the slippery wall of her skin until you are sitting down scrunched in the cramped space at the flooded bottom, up to your waist in pool water. By the time that you’re well accommodated, Ms Summers has finished sweeping her abdomen, and you can briefly hear her voice over the rumblings beneath your enclosure, complaining to no one in particular; “Tsk, darn flies.” If only you could fly…
Now, resting in your high-walled tyke splasher, you take a deep breath and leave your body to unwind. Just behind you, a cacophony of low sounds plays the background for your rest; a surreal mix of echoes, gurgles and bellows that distract you from the birds’ chant or the casual screeching of tires burning their marks on the street as a wayward driver slams the brakes at a crossing, though not from Kara’s still-going humming echoing through her body and to your repose; all the while the rocking motion of Kara’s body sloshes your pool around. Between the clouding sky above and the naturally dark tone of your environment, it seems like you’re suspended in an abyss, with only the fresh afternoon air to remind you that you’re still outdoors. At first you don’t mind it much, in fact you find it calming; but something at the back of your head begins to nick you about it, and it isn’t until your mind drifts off to idle thoughts when you begin to think that this is what it must be like at the other side of your lint-free backrest, inside Ms Summers’ swollen gut; followed by the triggered memory of your near-nom experience and a reflexive shiver.
You’ve got to be more careful on how you travel in this tiny size, as much as you liked your neighbor, the reminder that side-B you could be a few inches from you, getting the Visitor In Pie treatment and turning into extra padding for your cushioned ditch, is a sobering one. Almost eaten, crushed, or drowned, all without your neighbor even knowing that you were around… Such were the risks to take in a small adventure like yours, but you had to admit, the thrill was well worth it yet; and then you remember the time you spent on Choco-Mountain, bouncing along with Ms Summers’ step, your silly grin stretches almost wide enough to count your lips as earrings. Good thing you got washed in pool water, that gooey filling was starting to feel sticky. Last time I stowaway myself in dessert… probably.
Sweet memories and hollow promises aside, you stretch your arms and yawn deeply to get some rest, while at the same time the bellows blowing and the flesh pushing you forward told you that your neighbor was doing the same. Your eyes heave and your body loses tense as you rest against the soft, wrinkly walls of the soufflé sinkhole. Not long after, both you and Ms Summers drift off to a short cruise in dreamland while riding the float raft, Kara undisturbed by the sounds of her surroundings, and you driven to a relaxed slumber by yours.
Sometime later, shortly before the midday sun begins to hide in the horizon behind a flock of nimbus sheep, you’re awoken by the loud chant of a cicada swarm buzzing in the nearby trees, soon to be joined in their chorus by an equally loud ensemble of crickets; signaling the day turning into the late evening as they replace the flock orchestra of birds that livened up the backyard atmosphere a few dozen Z’s back. Quite the sleep you had there. Flipping yourself over from the position you had adopted in your rest, turned to the side, snuggling the wrinkly wall; you groggily begin to yawn and stretch back into full consciousness, and give a slight tug and shake to the limbs which seemed to fall in a slumber of their own while supporting your position.
Almost at the same time, your great neighbor rises from her own slumber as well, as you could tell by the deep, roaring yawn drowning the insect out chorus and pushed you slightly as her intake expanded her abdomen. A few muttered words escaped from her lips while she mirrored your own awakening; though you could only catch her surprise at the time being late. Come to think of it, it was getting late after all; your mother must be wondering where you wandered off to after delivering the treat, though you doubt she will mind if you spend the afternoon with your friendly neighbor.
Not quite awake yet, you shuffle some more in your cramped space, finding it dry and devoid of the pool at the bottom. Now all the humidity left is in the air, and combined with Ms Summers’ heat, it feels like it’s starting a sauna in her navel. Feeling like a sun-dried prune already, you don’t need more heat at the moment, so you take off what remains of your clothes to cool off a notch; leaving them at the bottom of the button.
While you disrobe down to your birthday suit, Kara finishes stirring up from her nap, and quickly shifts away from the center of the float to get up and out of the pool. It had been a very relaxing nap, much needed after her daily dose of various stresses in her life. Why, she felt like she had slept her whole week off after that! But it was getting late, and there were a couple more of things that she wanted to do before laying off to bed; starting by washing off the daily haul. So she got up from the float and back out of the pool, taking her clothes and a towel from the nearby chair and dried off the dripping half of her body, then tied the towel around her body and returned to her cozy home for the night.
The moment Kara steps out of the float, you are thrown into chaos, literally. Just as you take off the last of your clothing, the sudden rocking of her standing jolts you around in her belly button; but once her legs leave the boundaries of the float, all bets are off as you find yourself thrown out of your alcove and into the raging ocean beyond.
SPLASH!
Everything goes dark and silent and very wet for a moment while you sink a couple of feet deep in the storming waters, holding your pants tightly to your chest as if they were a placebo life-saver. A second later, you feel a sudden current sweep you and jolt you some more, while you force your lungs to endure the following surf. Then a smooth, swaying mass tackles you from behind and forces you forwards; which you realize is Ms Summers’ chest that caught a hold on you while she walked towards exiting the pool.
You brace for her moon-walk encore then, clenching the silk tightly into your hands as every step Kara takes threatens to cannon you a few ways back to Davy Jones’ nightstand drawer. Now she literally takes your breath away with her walk, as you again have to time your intake to match her skips; one mistimed inhale would mean taking a big gulp of pool water straight to your lungs. A hop, skip, and great leap forward (to you) later, and the Karaken and her stowaway are back at the edge of the pool.
However, while you may have survived the trip out of turbulent waters, you weren’t completely out of peril yet. As it turns out, it’s much more difficult to stay your grip on Ms Summers’ great flotation devices outside of the pool; though nothing that a quick peek down the skyscraper-high drop to the ground from her chest level won’t help; and you tighten your grip some more to her bikini, securing your hold. Once again, safety handles save the day.
Back to the amusement ride of holding tight while Kara walks, you watch as she picks up her clothing and a towel from a nearby lawn chair; giving you some serious sickness when she kneels down to reach the items. Then everything goes dark again as the fibrous cloth envelopes your world and leaves you relying on the noise behind the curtains to know what’s happening on the scene.
While the coat of her towel makes for a somewhat effective safety net for you; its closed environment, combined with Kara’s humidity and natural warmth make for a rather hot situation. You won’t suffocate anytime soon, but you would really appreciate if she could hasten her step a bit, wherever she might be going; probably to get a change of clothes. You’ll get off her at the first chance and then pull out the remote to grow an inch or two so you’re a bit less invisible, or at least less swat-able and squishy; hopefully (and you can’t believe you’re thinking this) she won’t remove her top anytime soon, or you’ll find yourself in trouble.
Outside the fiber curtain, you can hear her whistling another song yet, this time a more relaxed one; along with the occasional turning handles and hinges creaking after several steps or so, and you can only wonder what’s going on. Then, after a survival horror staple’s worth of doors later, it seems that your neighbor hitching is about to end: you begin to hear running water starting from what can only be a shower; followed by the feeling of Kara’s body shifting as she begins to unwrap the towel to reveal…
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