For the next several minutes, my mom walked around the building, only occasionally stopping to chat.  When speaking, I could feel the vibrations from her  voice traveling down to my entombed body, but could not make out any specific words.  Thankfully, such conversations were short and my mom didn't stand for too long in any one place.

As she went about whatever business needed attending, I had time to consider how absurd my situation had become.  I wondered what her reaction would be when she found me.  Would she cry, knowing she had subjected me to a day of pain and torture? While that thought was unfortunate, I had to be found--no matter how much it would pain her.

I also wondered what condition my body would be in.  Already, my feet and hands had lost all feeling.  My arms and legs were still painfully compressed, as was my chest.  My face was hot, and I couldn't help but to drool saliva over her skin and mine. 

Finally, I considered the odor. So far, my mom's foot hadn't started to stink.  Surely, though, that would change after several hours.  Having been shrunk to such a tiny size, I wondered how long it would take before I absorbed her foot's odor like a sponge.  Even if I was restored to normal--how long would I smell like my mom's foot?

That brought me to another shocking realization.  The only way I could be changed--based on the morning's events--would be to find the maid who had sprayed me.  But, what if she had already left work? Or denied the entire event? I wasn't even sure I remembered what she had looked like, given I had accidentally bumped into her and simply asked for my mom's room location.  What if the maid was never found--was I doomed to be a half-inch tall forever?

That thought sent chills down my body, which was now getting hot and feeling sticky.  I continued to breathe as best I could while my mom walked, and I waited for whatever torment was coming next.