To this day, I’m still not sure what the nature of our relationship is.  Sometimes I think I’m her best friend, other times, I wonder if she knows I exist.  And still others, I struggle to survive even a few short moments of being in her presence, lest she decide I am no longer worth her time.

But if there is one thing I can say about Noelle, one word to sum up her existence, her persona, her looks, her sensuality…well, no such word exists.  But to do the best I can with my limited mental dictionary:

Magnificent.

July 14, 2011

Today, Noelle awoke before I did.  I can’t imagine why, she hadn’t made plans the day before to leave early, and left nothing for me to find that would say otherwise.  So, when I awoke to find her missing, parts of my emotional spectrum that weren’t usually very exercised got a rude awakening.  My first thoughts?  Escapism.  Both in the ‘let’s-get-the-hell-out-of-here’ frame of mind, as well as the ‘I-wonder-what-I-can-cross-off-my-bucket-list’ sort of train. 

I chose the later today, choosing to explore previously forbidden terrain…Noelle’s bedroom.  After clothing myself, and being sure that this is what I wanted to do, I set forth on my journey, hoping this would come to show fruit.  Noelle was my obsession, my muse, and my reason for living.  Without her, I would cease to exist, if either because I would take my life, due to the separation anxiety, or because I am entirely dependent on her for food, water, and shelter.  Either way, without Noelle, there is no me, and there was no way around it.

So why would I risk everything I know and understand, on something I don’t understand, and may never know?  Well, why do the strongest of atheists, turn to lead religions and cults? For the same reason that we visit the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, and Mount Everest.  We humans are created or programmed by nature to behold great things, which are bigger than us, in size, might, complexity, and power. 

It is with these thoughts that I cross the threshold of Noelle’s bedroom. 

The moment I pass through the doorway, and even sooner perhaps, I can smell her scent.  I can smell the perfume she wears, light, precious, precise, like the woman herself.  My only regret, up until this point, is that the lights are out, and the window shades are closed.  There is very little light, but there is enough to help me continue forward.  Though, even if the room were pitch black, I would not likely turn back. 

Before we continue any further, I think it is important to know the specifics of my situation.  My name is Ryan, I’m 28 years old, and, most days, stand at exactly 1 inch tall.  How I got to this size and how I came to find Noelle…I’ll have to mention later.

My first obstacle in the room was one that someone might expect in a woman’s room.  An immediately right at the threshold of the door brought me to a row of shoes.  I’d seen more of each of these shoes than I’d ever anticipated, and I can’t say it was without its rewards.  It was only on the days that Noelle chose to validate my existence with conversation, and lift me up to eye level, or at least table level, that I wasn’t on the floor.  Given enough effort, I could climb tables, chairs, or other furniture, but most of the time, there was little reason to do so.  It would take most of the day to climb up to the dinner table, and there was increasingly less thrill, and point to it. 

However, this time was different.  The empty row of ‘primary’ shoes that Noelle would wear most often was 5 pairs deep.  The last, and furthest away, were her running sneakers, followed by an empty space where her black flip flops usually were.  She must have been wearing them today.  Next, her brown flats, followed by her black high heels, for work, and finally, those infamous pink house slippers, closest to me.  I’d spent more time around those than any of the others, because they were an immediate trade off for the others when Noelle got home. 

I wouldn’t call myself a foot fetishist, but as much time as I have spent admiring Noelle and all of her perfection, by staring at her feet, you could likely label me as one, and not be too far off the mark. 

I called these an ‘obstacle’, because there was so much of Noelle’s room to explore, and I wasn’t sure how much time I had.  But there was also that feeling in the pit of my gut that told me to save that for another time, and focus on those shoes of hers.  I’ve never been a man to think with my head. 

I’d spent so much time with those house slippers that I wanted to see those less-often seen sneakers, and pumps.  It only took a few more minutes to pass the others, and reach those towering, powerful empty vessels that housed my goddess’ feet.  Black Nike ‘Shox’, I think they’re called, with pink trim, and pink on the inside.  That was my goal.  A quick peek inside, look around, and move on.  No extended stay, no basking in the scent of her light sweat and body lotion, I could save that for another day. 

The sneakers were between the wall and the empty space where the flips flops would have gone.  I made my way across the empty space, and debated on a plan of attack.  The shoes were easily three stories tall at the ankle, and about the size of a small house at the toe.  However, due to the nature of these shoes, the heel was made up of four pillars, some sort of springs that provided better lift while running.  The pillars were attached to a roof and a floor, making the structure seem like an empty parking garage.  I don’t know, try looking them up on google.

I decided my best option would be to head for the toe, and climb up.  It was the obvious answer, and I’d began walking towards my goal, when suddenly I heard that all too familiar sound of the living room door opening.  Noelle was at home. 

As meticulous and organized as she was, I knew her path by heart.  She’d head through the living room, drop off groceries or other purchases in the kitchen, come to her bedroom, switch into her slippers, then go to put them away.  That gave me roughly thirty seconds to get the hell out of dodge.

Unfortunately, I didn’t calculate that Noelle may not have gone to get groceries.  I’d barely run for ten seconds along the row of shoes, hardly out of flip-flop zone, when I heard the bedroom door swing open, and the light switch flip on. 

There she was, my Noelle, my goddess.  Lightly tanned skinned, strawberry blonde, near-red hair lately, though she played with the color often.  Adorned in denim shorts that only barely contained and covered her tight, toned ass, a red spaghetti strap tank top, and, of course, black flip flops. 

The woman had never been much of a heavy ‘stepper’; her foot steps were always light and hardly noticeable to anyone around.  Unless, of course, you were an inch tall and standing where she intended to step. 

I could barely make up that playful smirk on her face, the one she always had on her face when she got home, likely from all the heart she broke with her subtle winks, perfect, perky breasts, and dazzling green eyes.  Unfortunately though, I found myself dead center of where her flip flops would be placed, and had no time to think about the finer points of Noelle’s body.  Plan B, turn around.

Thud.  Her next few steps were all the more noticeable.  I didn’t dare peek behind me to see how close she was, I knew that I could never make it.  I was far large enough to be seen from eye level, but the question was if today, I was her friend, enemy, or imaginary, non-existent toy.  Time would tell, and I quickly made pace for the shelter of those sneakers again.  My goal?  Reach that covered, parking garage-like heel that I was describing earlier. 

“What am I gonna make for dinner?”  I heard her speak, taking a final step into the area next to her shoes.  She paused for a moment, as if this question was more important than switching footwear.  She was buying me time, which meant she had no intention of acknowledging me today.   “Hm…choices.”  Another five second pause, and Noelle shrugged, finally stepping into the place where her flips flops most often stayed. 

My goddess’ feet dwarfed me like the powerful structures they were.  I’d learned to respect them, but apparently, not enough, as I again found myself diving out of the way from just the displaced air that rushed away from her step.  I didn’t stay down long though, and soon, I found shelter inside the heel of those blessed sneakers.  It was here that I finally turned around to fully comprehend how close I had come to being stepped on.  Noelle’s feet were only a few scale yards from where I had been seconds ago.  Directly in front of me, her bare heels, powerful, crushing boulders of flesh rested in the flimsy footwear, unmoving for now.

“I suppose I could make some…crushed pea soup?”  She spoke, lifting her hand up to her chin, as if considering her options.  “I’m sure I have a recipe somewhere…underfoot.”  I could almost hear her suppressing a giggle.  She was toying with me, and to further emphasize it, she began to tap that left foot of hers, the one closest to me.   I watched, in equal fear and amazement as that soft, feminine foot rose only an inch or two, though still over my head, and came crashing back down to earth, flip flop included.  The air, again, rushed away from under, but only caused my hair to rustle a bit.  It was nothing compared to what happened next.

“I just don’t know what I’m in the mood for…”  Her left foot became stationary again, but I saw a much larger movement from the other foot.  I thought, for a moment, she had was about to leave, the foot was leaving the footwear in place.  I almost breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly stifled it, when I saw the powerful appendage lift in the air and move sideways across its twin, towards the sneaker I was hiding under. 

Running would have been my first priority, though it would have gotten me nowhere, even if Noelle’s toes hadn’t landed directly between the shoe and her other foot, putting her in a cross-legged position, as if she was leaning against something for support.  However, since she was not looking down, her aim was only slightly off, and that sneaker that I had used for refuge was pushed away gently, and I went tumbling out of the sneaker, and into the carpet right where Noelle’s  now bare left foot stood on its toes. 

My eyes had been closed during the collision, but I didn’t need to see to tell that I was under Noelle’s foot, or nearly.  The warmth and light smell was enough.  But I did open my eyes, and directly in front of me was the ball of her towering foot.  Above me, and higher, was the underside of that same foot.  It lorded over me like some kind of living, pale, wrinkled sky.  As close as I was to it, I could see every intricate detail, every creased line, every tiny piece of dirt that was forever lost to the vast field of flesh that was the sole of my goddess’ foot.  I was close enough to that I could reach out and kiss it, if I wanted.  And part of me did. 

“I guess I’m gonna just have to go look for it, ‘eh?”  Was she expecting an answer from me?  She’d been known to talk to herself before, but this was different.  I didn’t have much time to consider it however, as suddenly, my world began to darken, and the sky began to fall.  Looking up, I saw that that perfect arch of hers was descending towards me.  I shuddered at its power, and ability to cast me in such a dark shadow, so easily.  I’d often wondered if I was going to die under such a lovely foot, crushed between its toes, or flattened under its sole, but it had happened so many times, I rarely got emotional about it, and just accepted what I thought would happen.  Things got darker, warmer, and muskier.

Until the daylight returned, and a heavy, strong wind had me temporarily airborne.  It happened more quickly than I expected, and I landed roughly, on a flat, rubbery surface.  Opening my eyes, I found that Noelle had abandoned her flip flops, traded them for her slippers, and was heading out of the room.  I had landed on the insole of one of those sandals, staring up at the thin strap.  I sighed, heavily, looking to my right, where the sneakers were discarded, knocked over.  Her scent filled my nose again, and I smiled.

Magnificent.