The sun has begun to set on another hot summer day. The last bit of daylight spills through the attic windows, bathing the shrunken group of people gathered at the tiny picnic table on the floor in its warmth. The group's discussion is halted by the sounds of the attic stairs being dropped to the floor far below followed by the familiar rhythm of footsteps ascending them. This has become a very familiar interruption to the group.

Everyone at the picnic table turns their attention to the other side of the room to watch as Claire makes her entrance into the attic. Her head appears as her feet carry her further up the stairs. Her long black hair bounces gently as she moves, and she wears a beautiful smile on her gorgeous face.

A few steps more, and Claire is far enough up the stairs for something entirely unexpected to come into view. She carries something with her, a fairly large object which she transports with the support of both her hands.

The group stares at the younger woman and her cargo, dumbfounded. Amy's mouth drops at the sight before her. Color fades from her face and she whimpers softly before burying her head into her husband's chest. Michael wraps his arms around his wife in an attempt to comfort her.

The Previous Evening

Startled, Thomas rises to his feet as the kitchen door is forced open with a loud cracking sound and the gigantic older woman steps through it before sealing it shut once again. Thomas has spent hours cowering beneath the kitchen table, his back pressed against one of its towering pillar-like legs and his head cradled in his hands, clinging desperately to the hope that his friend would still be alive when the massive woman returned home.

Amanda sighs tiredly and the tiny man watches intently from his vantage point beneath the table as she begins slipping off her pink sneakers. “Finally” she says to herself. She presses the toe section of her right shoe against the heel of her left and her foot slowly slips out from within.

Next, she pushes her right shoe against her left foot, now bare, and works her heel out of the sneaker. She then lifts her foot and gently swings her leg forward, kicking off her other shoe. It lands on its side not far in front of her and she sighs again, though this time it's not a sigh expressing fatigue, but rather one of pleasure. “Ahhhh, it feels soooooo good to get out of those.”

With her feet now free from the confines of her stuffy pink sneakers, Amanda takes a moment to wiggle her liberated toes. She spreads and wriggles them, allowing cool air to pass between them. Satisfied, she flicks the kitchen lights off and turns around before walking through the kitchen and heading off towards her bedroom.

“Goodnight, sweetie!” Amanda says before traveling down the hall.

“Goodnight, Mom!” Claire's voice replies, calling out from elsewhere in the home.

“Please be alive... please be alive... please be alive” Thomas chants to himself as the colossal woman's footsteps recede upon her exit from the room. Though she had turned out the lights, the evening's sky is rather bright, allowing Thomas to see quite well in the massive kitchen. With the danger gone from the room, at least temporarily, Thomas wastes no time. He darts out from beneath the table and runs off towards the pink sneakers in search of his friend.

As he travels across the kitchen, Thomas notices new markings on the linoleum floor. Amanda's perspiring feet have left gigantic footprints in her wake, and they glisten in the moonlight. Thomas runs past several of them from toes to heel on his journey to the sneakers.

He finally reaches them, the right shoe conveniently laying on its side. “Marcus!” he yells. “Marcus, where are you?!” No answer.

Thomas reaches the opening of the overturned shoe and hurriedly climbs his way into the colossal pink footwear. Stepping inside, he finds himself in a sweat-laced inferno. Heat washes over him, radiating from every square centimeter inside the sneaker, covering his tiny body and overwhelming his senses. The scent is overbearing, so incredibly pungent that its power causes his eyes to tear up and nearly brings him to his knees as every breath of air he takes becomes a burden he must endure.

“Marcus!” He yells once more, fighting through the pain. “Marcus... please...”

Several minutes pass, though to Thomas it seems as though an eternity has come and gone as he waits for a response from his friend which never comes. The sweltering heat and the terrible odor continue mercilessly assaulting his body as he stands inside the woman's shoe.

Thomas clenches his fists. He faces reality and abandons his hope of being reunited with his friend. Marcus is gone. Any remains of the man he was have been crushed out of existence beneath the weight of an oblivious older woman. Any final trace, washed away into nothingness by the salty sweat emanating from her feet thanks to the heat of an otherwise normal summer day.

A Few Hours Later

Consumed with excitement, Claire quietly sneaks through her home and makes her way to the front door. She's planned everything so carefully, waited for her mother to return home and given her a few hours as to make sure she's had enough time to fall into a proper sleep. With her hand on the doorknob, she carefully gives it a twist and quietly steps out into the yard.

Carrying a small gardening shovel in her left hand, Claire walks softly across the pavement. She's careful to keep the sound produced by her flip flops down to a minimum. Soon, she finds herself at her destination: Michael and Amy's front yard. She smiles, gazing upon their home standing before her in the light of the moon. Her body still trembling with pure excitement, she sinks her hand into her pocket and extracts Michael's device.

Claire programs her desired settings into the device before extending her arm, shaking in anticipation as she aims for the house. After a deep breath, she closes her eyes and pulls back on the trigger.

When she opens them again, the house has vanished, gone from her sight. She looks down and sure enough, just ahead of her on the ground rests a tiny structure.

Her eyes and mouth open wide as she takes in the sight. She takes a few steps closer and kneels down, pressing her knees into the soft earth. “It's sooooooo cute!” she whispers excitedly.

Just a moment ago, the home towered over her, but now, the entire building is so incredibly dwarfed by her comparatively massive feminine figure. Adrenaline surges through her body. This is the largest thing she's shrunken to date courtesy of the power of Michael's machine, larger even than the bus full of boring little football players, but despite all this, she knows it could still be entirely destroyed in nothing more than a single step.

Not wanting to spend any more time outside and risking getting caught, Claire gets to work. She takes the little gardening shovel she's brought with her and with extreme care she begins digging the tiny home loose from the dirt. When her work is done and she's satisfied with it, using both hands she so very gently plucks the tiny house from the earth, porch and all.

With it cradled safely in the palm of her hands, Claire marvels at her prize. An entire home, constructed by the efforts of a swarm of workers and built for human beings to reside within now rests in her grasp as if it were nothing more than a dollhouse to her, a children's plaything.

Rising to her feet, Claire takes a look at her neighbor's now empty yard and giggles. Very carefully, she begins the journey back to her own home with the much, much smaller house remaining in the palms of her soft hands.

After quietly entering her home, Claire moves silently through the halls so as not to wake her mother as she makes her way to her bedroom. She gently sets Michael and Amy's tiny residence down inside the safety of her closet before closing the door.

Claire sets her alarm for the next morning, ensuring that she will awaken before her mother. With a beautiful bright smile refusing to leave her face, Claire turns out her light and climbs into bed.