Moonlight glimmers in through the windows, bestowing soft, faint luminescence to the attic. Michael, Amy, and the other four couples have drifted off to sleep, having to spend yet another night within the comfort (or lack thereof) of a shoebox. A few hours earlier, Claire had returned to the attic as she had said she would, bearing more crumbs for her guests to dine on.

After delivering their supper, she said her goodnight to the group, smiling and waving down to them before venturing back down the stairs again, sparing them for the night from her play and any humiliation that would inevitably accompany it. Perhaps it was because she was still in a great mood, still content after receiving her pedicure, or maybe she was tired herself and decided she'd spent enough time in the attic for one day? No one knew for certain how they managed to get out of spending more time with the comparatively massive young woman, but just the same, no one was complaining.

Back in her room downstairs, Claire lays comfortably on her bed, the covers below her. She lifts her right leg off of the bed, extending the long, toned limb into the air. She rotates her ankle slowly from side to side, tilting her foot into various positions and pointing it in every direction as she gazes up and admires the handiwork of her little helpers. Her toes wriggle, spreading apart slightly and grasping at the air.

“They did such a good job...” Claire says to herself, still impressed with the work of the tiny people in her attic. “I knew they'd be teeny enough to see every little spot and paint it absolutely perfectly! This is probably the best pedicure I've ever had!”

Claire lowers her leg, her bare skin dropping gently onto the softness of the red blanket beneath her. Reaching out to the wall behind her, her hand finds the light switch and snaps it off. In the darkness, she makes her way under the covers and tucks herself in before drifting off to sleep for the night.

Amy finds herself on her front lawn, alone, seated sideways at the picnic table in front of her and Michael's home. The warmth of the sun shines down and a gentle breeze blows, rustling leaves on the branches of trees in the distance. Wind softly brushes through her hair. Her pink flip flops lay discarded in the grass, tossed aside a few feet away from her on the lawn.

Amy glances down to her bare feet planted on the ground in front of her. Her eyes widen as they take in the sight of a group of tiny beings clambering around on the tops of her feet. She leans down slowly to get a better look at the creatures that are seemingly pampering her feet as their tiny bodies continue to explore her skin.

They're not bugs, she realizes. They're... people. Tiny, tiny people, but that's not all. She recognizes them. She sees her friends, Alexia, Jennifer, their boyfriends, Michael's friend Jim and Jim's girlfriend, Brandi... they, along with even more people she knows, continue to move about on her bare feet, as if oblivious to Amy while she watches them from above.

Her heart begins beating faster and faster and each breath she takes in is slow and deep. Amy leans in even closer to see just what it is the tiny people are doing. Briefly pulling her attention away from the tiny people and onto her nails, she notices that the pink polish on her toes is fresh. She can see incredibly small objects in the hands of the people below, the tip of each object coated in pink, the same shade of pink adorning her toes. “My nails... they've been painting them...” she whispers to herself upon the realization.

Suddenly movement catches her eye and she focuses her gaze onto her left big toe. One of the little people had been knelt down onto it with their back to Amy but was now beginning to stand. The tiny body turns around to face her and she gasps, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

She found herself staring into the tiny smiling face of Michael. Her own husband. Standing on her big toe, he begins to jump up and down, waving his hands in the air.

Michael's rubs his eyes after opening them, unadjusted to the shining sun of a new morning casting its rays into the attic. His wife lays next to him, her back to him. Michael reaches out and places a hand on Amy's shoulder and she begins to stir beneath his touch as he gently rubs his hand back and forth.

“Good morning, honey. Sleep well?”

“Mmmmmm, yeah” Amy tiredly replies. She opens her mouth to release a yawn. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I slept fine. You know, you were talking in your sleep last night. You must have been dreaming. What was it about?”

Amy is still facing away from Michael, otherwise he would have noticed the color of her face change to red. “Dreaming? I, uh... I don't remember.” Her heart rate accelerates. “I was talking in my sleep?”

“Yes.”

“What was I saying?”

“That's the thing, I don't know. It was more like murmuring, really. Couldn't make out the words. Are you sure you don't remember dreaming about anything?”

“No... if I did, I don't remember it now. I'm sorry, honey, I hope I didn't keep you awake.”

“It's okay, and you didn't. Well, I'd better get up, see what the others are up to.”

“I'm gonna lay here a little longer sweetie.”

“Alright, I'll see you later.” Michael leans in and plants a kiss on his wife's cheek before standing up and exiting the cardboard box.

Amy listens as Michael walks away. She hears him say good morning to Jim and a few others as he leaves the shoebox. Her heart begins beating normally again, relieved that she hadn't mentioned anything while talking in her sleep that would have revealed what it was she had been dreaming about. She remembered the dream very well. It was so vivid. But how could she explain it to Michael? She didn't quite understand it herself, and even if she did, is it even something she should talk about? “What is my subconscious telling me?” she thinks to herself.

Amy thinks back to when she was seated in the bed of Jim's truck, driving along through seemingly miles of grass before encountering the pair of colossal black flip flops. As the tiny blue vehicle passed between the two titanic sandals, she couldn't help but wonder if the sight she was seeing now... and if the feeling of being so insignificantly small... if it was exactly the same as what her friends had experienced in the presence of her flip flops when she walked through her lawn before she too was shrunken.

Her mind wanders to what transpired a little later on that same day after Claire had brought everyone into her home. She thinks of how she watched on with such curiosity and wonder, even, as Claire's beautiful body towered over her and her friends from where they stood on the wood floor of the attic. Their cars, scattered about on the ground, rested dangerously close to the gigantic powerful feet of her younger neighbor, the powerful feet that at any moment could be lifted with minimal effort from their owner and brought down onto the cars, crushing them into flattened heaps of scrap metal beneath her weight. As Amy watched on, transfixed, she couldn't think of anything else but what it would be like to have the vehicles at her feet. To have the group of people in the attic's attention glued to her body as it towered over them. Staring on while Claire's toes playfully toyed with Scott's car, Amy was oblivious to the seriousness and danger of the situation. Her friends all around her down on the floor were watching the event play out with nothing but fear, yet Amy was experiencing something else entirely. Envy.

Amy was jealous of Claire. She was still afraid of her too, that was only logical. Amy was nothing more than a bug in relation to the size of Claire after falling victim to Michael's machine. But unlike the others, Amy found herself filled with more than just fear of Claire. She wanted what Claire had. She had no way to explain the desire, and she even felt ashamed for feeling this way, but nevertheless, she wanted it. “But... But I would have helped them” Amy thinks to herself. “When I got home from the store... if I could have noticed them down there on the lawn... I would have helped them. I wouldn't have done any of this, I would have changed everyone back to normal. I know I would have.”

And it was true. If Amy had found her husband and their friends shrunken down on her lawn when she arrived home from the store, she would have helped them, provided she had not mistaken them for insects, of course. But after watching Claire play with the tiny people, after seeing vehicles dominated by the body parts of her younger neighbor, something deep within Amy changed. Her husband's machine turned what was ordinarily a quite normal girl into a goddess, a massive feminine creature ruling over the lives of a group of people. Amy knew something was very wrong about what she was feeling, but still found herself wanting desperately to experience that which Claire was. And what's worse, she had the opportunity and squandered it. Just two days prior she was the one with goddess proportions on her own lawn to the nine tiny bodies below her. The very thing she now dreamed about had been in her grasp, there for the taking, but she was totally unaware of the situation she was in and the opportunity to experience the same level of power as Claire now possessed slipped through her fingers as quickly as it came. All she had managed to do during her brief reign as goddess of her lawn was play with a little blue truck, which at the time she was fully convinced was nothing more than a child's toy. It was like a cruel joke to Amy. Last night's dream now made perfect sense to her, and she couldn't allow anyone to know about it.

The group has assembled, though they haven't been for long, some sitting at and others standing around the shrunken picnic table in the middle of the attic. They stop talking amongst themselves, their attention drawn to the sound of the stairs lowering and Claire climbing them as she makes her way into the room. Her bare feet carry her across the wood floor as she approaches the group and she holds a rectangular plastic container in each hand.

“Good morning, everyone! I hope you had a great night's sleep!”

“What's that?” Michael yells up from his seat at the picnic table, noticing the objects in Claire's hands and wondering if they could mean more work for him and the others like the buckets had meant when she'd carried them up yesterday.

“Water. Where do you want me to put it?” She looked around the attic before lowering her gaze to Michael.

“What? I don't care...” Michael was already frustrated with the girl despite it still being so early in the morning.

“I'll just set it down over here.” Claire walks to the back of the room. Kneeling down, she sets the two shallow clear containers down onto the floor a few feet away from the box she had designated as a bathroom facility the day before. “Awww, you guys moved your little bathroom” she says, just now noticing the box has been relocated to the back wall despite having been in the attic since. Claire dips her fingers into one of the containers and removes a small chunk of soap from the water, placing it down in front of the container she just fished it out of. She rises back onto her feet and wipes her wet fingers on her shirt, drying them with the fabric. “I wish I could have watched, you guys must have looked so cute moving the big heavy box around.” She giggles before turning around and walking back towards the middle of the room, stopping with her toes not far in front of the table. She looks down at the little people as she stands over them.

“What's with the containers of water?” asks Michael.

“Oh, those? I brought them up so you guys can give me a bath.” Ten pairs of tiny eyes stare up at her, dumbfounded, causing her to laugh. “I'm kidding, god, you're so gullible. I thought you guys could use one of them for drinking and the other one for bathing and washing your little clothes. I even brought some soap for you to use.”

“Claire! You need to stop this!” Michael knows he has no hope of reasoning with Claire, but at this point it's just natural for him to continue to try. “You can't keep us up here like some kind of pets! You need to grow us back to normal and let us go!”

Claire rolls her eyes. “I'm not gonna hear about this anymore, little man. I'm getting sick of it. I'm taking good care of you little people. I've given you a comfy bed to sleep in, I've been feeding you good meals, and now I've even given you stuff to clean yourselves up with. How can you be so ungrateful? You have no idea how lucky you are that I found you.”

Michael stands from the table and clenches his fists at his sides. “We're lucky you found us?!”

“Yes, you are. Very.” Claire smiles down on the angry little man below.

“First of all, you did not find anyone! We came to you, thinking you would help us! You weren't supposed to take us hostage and refuse to grow us back!”

“You can think of it how you want to, but I still found you. And you're still lucky that I did.”

Keith rises from the table and joins Michael. “How! How the fuck are we lucky?!”

Claire giggles at the outburst of the tiny man at her feet. “You think you've got it so bad here? Just because I didn't grow you back? You little people need to stop complaining for a minute and realize something. You could have it a lot worse than this. Much worse. Imagine if I didn't find you out there in the grass. Imagine if I wasn't out in my backyard when you were driving through. Imagine if I wasn't even home when you people went and shrunk yourselves nextdoor. What would you have done then, hmmm? Driven that little truck towards the road for what would amount to miles and miles and miles for you? Or until you simply ran out of gas? You're so tiny. I don't think you even realize just how small you really are. If I didn't bring you inside, you could still be out there right now, fighting for your lives against creepy crawly bugs.” The group at the table is startled as Claire begins wiggling her bare toes where her feet stand directly in front of them. The sun shining through the attic windows causes her toes to cast shadows down onto the wood floor that reach the table as she continues lifting her toes into the air and rubbing them together, the friction creating a scratching sound. “And the bugs out there, the bugs that would be dangerous to you... I could crush those same bugs under my pretty little feet like they were nothing." Claire lifts her toes into the air and wiggles them before quickly slapping them back down onto the floor, emphasizing her point. The floor shakes upon impact, jarring the men and women at the table. "That's how tiny you are.” Claire laughs as she watches the horrified faces staring up at her. “That's how insignificant you cute little things really are, and that's why you should count yourselves extremely lucky that I found you. If it weren't for me, you'd probably all be dead by now, crushed under the feet or in the belly of something much, much bigger than you.”

Michael and Keith sit back down at the table, joining everyone else in silence as they think about what Claire has said.

“Now, I'm going to go take a shower. I'll be back up here later and we can find something to do today before I make you some lunch. Have fun, see you later, little people!”

Claire flashes a final smile down to the group before walking away towards the stairs. Everyone at the table sits still, contemplating her words as her bare feet softly slap down onto the floor with each step she takes. The men and women continue mulling over everything she has just told them as the attic entrance is sealed shut.