This choice: You walk out onto his palm. You're hardly even a speck to him now. • Go Back...Chapter #9You walk out onto his palm. You're hardly e... by: Peter the Great   This is not good. This is not good at all.
Being too inches tall in relation to the house, you already knew you were tiny. Basic objects like furniture and hand-tables loomed far above your head, some of them even taller than climbing walls. The carpeted floor beneath your feet, which you could barely feel at regular size, now reached up around your leg, stretched across the floor in an endless sea of threads; you can see the connection they have to the real floor, and as you put your foot on it for measurement. The "soft" carpet bristles go past your ankles, and the fiber now looks about half as thick as your arm.
"One..." Brandon's voice reverberates around the house, shaking it like an earthquake.
You were tiny before he shrunk the house. Now you would barely be seen to to even a normal-sized person. And if Brandon was now twenty feet tall...
"Two..." his massive voice shakes again.
Okay, enough sizing-up. (you'd mentally slap yourself for that if this weren't such a pressing situation.) You really don't even know if you will be recognized by Brandon at this height, but you do NOT want to be in this house when it shrinks again. You run your way over the giant ocean of brushes as fast as possible and climb over the top of the doorstep, now a little taller than yourself. As you sprint off the front doorstep which is now the size of a race-track, you just barely make it off before Brandon booms out "THREE!" in a voice that bellowed from the heavens. Instantly, there is a burst of light above you as you hit the ground, and you hear the shrink-ray do its thing once more. Your heart stops for a terrified moment... then you relax when you realize that the tingling is not overcoming your body again. You are safe... sort of.
You pause to catch your breath, bent over and panting into the flesh-tone ground, and then look around you.
Your stomach drops as dread takes over your body. Your house has shrunk, true to Brandon's word; due to some insane irony, it looks like it's just as big as you are. You look incredulously into the top floor windows and see your room, with perfectly arranged miniature furniture, including bed and bureaus. Massive prints cover the house, embedded in the small pieces of woodwork that aren't cracked- Brandon's thumbprints, you think to yourself. It's just a little too big to be called a dollhouse, but you realise that if you had been even a little later in getting out, you would probably be the size of Brandon's skin cells right now. You'd be aroused if you weren't so scared. Then you look around...
...you shut your eyes. You really hope this is just a nightmare. You open them again and try to register your surroundings.
Massive canyon-sized dips surround you and your house. You don't have anything to measure with, but if you did, you would easily wager that some of these are twenty, thirty times your own height in depth. Farther away- roughly half a mile to you, across this massive plain- you can see even wider ones which are probably even deeper. These dips all criss-cross in a way that seems random, but you know is organized.
The canyons around you are the lines on Brandon's palm. That massive one in the distance could probably be his lifeline.
In despair, you look up. the horizon is covered in Brad's white shirt, the threads thicker than buildings, stretching and criss-crossing an impossible distance upwards until it meets with his head and neck. You can see his giant face squinting down, his eyes as big as moons, trying to find you.
"...Did he make it out?" He mutters (although to you its a massive rumbling). "Dammit, I can't see.."
You can't even think of what to do now. You can't even make out the edge of the palm. You only pray that he somehow grows you again.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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