With tired eyes, Ava stared at her blank computer screen.  Biting her lip and tirelessly twisting the ends of her long brown hair, she racked her brain for a sentence – no, she would even take a few words at this point – that would start her Catcher in the Rye paper. 

God, you can’t even do this, you freaking idiot.

She typed, “Holden was…”  Backspace.  Try again.  “J.D. Salinger’s coming-of-age novel A Catcher in the Rye…”  No, that sucks.  Backspace.  Ava stared at the screen for another few moments, trying to ignore the most recent bout between her mom and sister coming from the outside of her bedroom.  Still nothing.

“C’mon…” She whispered, face-palming in mental exhaustion, as well as physical exhaustion from having to walk several miles home after Katie and Claire dumped her the day before.  She was too embarrassed and upset to call for help.  Who would she even call?

She couldn’t get Parker out of her head.  Simply put, she massively screwed up.  She thought that the popular girls would give them a hint as to Colleen’s whereabouts, leading them to the Amazon that gave Parker the drug.  Ava underestimated the inhumanity of her classmates, unfortunately.  Now, with rumors going around school of Katie having a party on Friday, her dread was amplified with thoughts of what she planned to do with Parker.  But god, she was only with the guy for a couple of days…why does she feel this shitty?  Was it the excitement of a new friend?  Was it a crush?  At points during their time together, she even secretly hoped that whoever and whatever shrunk Parker would have been long gone.  She felt terrible about that, but she was lonely.  After she was rejected by the boy who eventually went to prom with Colleen, she felt horrible, but Parker actually made her feel better.  Parker wasn’t a douchebag, which is the kind of guy that Ava was used to dealing with.  Confusion and regret bounced around the walls of Ava’s head.  She had to do something.

Ava closed the Microsoft Word window on her laptop and pulled up her web browser.  Pause.  She typed “google.com,” her French-manicured nails clacking against the keys of her keyboard.  Pause.  Who could help?  I don’t even know his last name...Think, dammit.  Lost in thought, Ava scanned her room, her eyes falling on the makeshift tiny-person bed that she made for Parker.  She let out a deep sigh.

 I know that he said that he didn’t want people at his office to know about him…but I don’t know what else to do...he said he worked for an event planning company or something, right?  Someone there could probably help.

Typing fast enough to induce finger cramps, Ava expertly scoured Google for all event planning businesses in the area.  One by one, she inspected the “About Us” pages of each one, hoping to find Parker’s name.  Frantic typing ensued.  This looks promising.  “Sunny Day Events: We’ll Make Your Day Unforgettable!”  About Us… Parker Carey // Event Associate // Email: parker@sunnyevents.org.”  Mission accomplished, girl.  Now, what’s the address of this place? Ava navigated the pages of the brightly decorated website, settling on the “Contact Us” tab. 

154 Bedlington Gardens...Time to go on a trip.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Parker slowly began to regain consciousness.  Finding the air around him chilly, he pulled his arms and legs closer to himself.  His senses awakening, he could hear the faint sound of telephones ringing and people chatting.  Eyes still closed, he groggily grunted and shifted in his seat.  Wait, his seat?  Parker’s eyes snapped open.

Huh?  What the…?

Parker’s nerves jumped as he frenziedly darted his eyes back and forth, attempting to make sense of his new surroundings.  He was in absolute disbelief.  The Smiths mug, Dell computer, San Francisco Giants calendar, and the messy stack of papers were all there.  Parker looked down, past his striped blue tie and white dress shirt, down to his khaki pants and brown loafers. He was in his office cubicle.  But something was off.  Way off.

His legs only reached slightly past his office chair.        

“Ah!” Parker let out a small yelp, his nerves inducing a mild heat stroke.  Struggling to catch his breath, he quickly assumed that he was no taller than a small child.

What the fuck?!  How the hell did I get here?

Parker racked his brain for some context, but everything was hazy.  He couldn’t hold on to a thought to save his life; the only thing that Parker was cognizant of was how surreal his scenario was, not to mention his killer headache. 

Shit shit shit…I need to run to the bathroom or something, no one can see me like –

“Parker!  Would you mind being a doll and making some copies of this flyer for me?”  Parker’s fifty-something co-worker, Cheryl, leaned into his cubicle and offered him a piece of paper, which was about the size of a small rug to him.  Looking like someone’s son who was lost on “Bring Your Child to Work Day,” Parker nervously nodded, accepting the paper from the company’s graphic designer.  “Thanks!”  She flashed a smile, brushing her black hair out of her hair as she went on her way, apparently unfazed by her toddler-sized co-worker.

How did she not…? 

He glanced at the oversized flyer, which advertised the marriage of Artie and Emmy, a happy-looking couple frolicking in a green meadow or some other.  Parker let out a long sigh, trying to relieve his anxieties.  No success.  His mouth dry, he tried to reach his water bottle on his desk.  Also no success.  What the hell is going on?  

“Here goes nothing,” Parker said aloud to himself, and clumsily slunk off of his giant-sized chair.  Before moving on, he looked back up at it.  Good luck not looking like an idiot climbing back on that thing. He peeked out from the edge of his cubicle, looking more like he was in the midst of a game of hide-and-seek than preparing to make a trip to the copy machine.  He saw Cheryl disappear into her cubicle.  Coast is clear. 

Parker darted from his workspace, pushing the limits of his shortened legs on his way to the copy room.  Making quick observations during his journey, he noticed that Victoria was away from her cubicle, everyone else was still normal-sized, and no one bothered to look at the dwarf speeding down the walkway.

Parker rushed into the copy room like a speedy baseball player trying to reach home base.  Safe.  He reached the familiar room, trying to shake the uneasiness that came with its increased scale.  With an unnerving amount of effort, he pushed the door closed.  In his urgency, he almost tripped on a littered Starbucks cup on the floor of the copy room.  It looked like a size that eclipsed Venti – or whatever fancy name they call it – but was most likely the smallest size for one of his giant coworkers.  He shuddered.

Now came the hardest part.  The copy machine was out of arm’s reach.  Great, call more attention to myself.  He scanned the mostly barren room, past the Starbucks cup, a tall coffee table, a few fake plants, and a smallish office trash can.  Trash can. 

Parker scurried over to the trash can, which seemed to be about a foot and a half tall and was lined with grey wires, allowing a glimpse into the discarded papers within.  It was not much shorter than him – he figured that he had it beat by half of a foot.  He quickly pushed over the can, dumping its contents on the carpeted floor.  Then, he grabbed its rim and dragged it towards the copy machine.  Nearing the completion of his nifty plan, he pushed the bottom of the can upwards.  With his flyer, he pulled himself on top of the can, the pillar placing him just above the copy machine.  Success.          

As is usually the case when Parker accomplishes something, the victory was short-lived.  The door flew open right when he was about to place the flyer into the copier.  The threat of one of his titanic coworkers caused him to almost lose his balance even before he had a chance to turn around.

“What are you doing?  Why didn’t you just ask me for help like you usually do?”  Victoria, his best friend at the office, said with a chuckle.  She was wearing one of her usual hipster outfits, the thick black frames of her glasses and red lipstick complimenting a black blazer that draped over her white dress.  She was also rocking her favorite brown leather boots. 

Parker turned towards the smiling face of his now-Amazonian friend, responding, “I…I…don’t know.”  Even standing on top of the garbage can, he estimated that he was still around two feet shorter than her. She was massive, and he was terrified.

“You’re a troublemaker, Parker!  One of these days it’s going to catch up with you!”  Victoria continued to laugh, casually approaching Parker.  Without his consent, she put two large hands under his arms, carefully lifting him up and setting him down on the floor.  With a cute wink, she reached down and took the flyer from his hands, saying, “Now, let me take care of that.  Only because you got me coffee today.”

“Th…Thanks.”  Parker meekly responded, marveling at the height of his formerly-tiny friend.  He didn’t know why, but in that moment he felt strangely okay, for the first time in what felt like forever.   Maybe it was because he didn’t have to deal with the wrath of this dimension’s Cheryl, or because he was in the presence of one of his only good friends.  Hell, for some reason he couldn’t remember what he had for breakfast that morning, so he just shut his mouth and smiled.

“Alright, there we go!”  Victoria cheerily said, handing the papers down to Parker.  Despite feeling like a child who had just received his homework from his preschool teacher, Parker responded with a polite thank you.

 “I’m telling you, Parker, you need to get out of that damn house of yours and come out to the bars with me,” she chided, her hands on her hips.

Still stiff from the new size roles and terrified at the prospect of going to a place with even more dolled-up giantesses (with heels nonetheless), Parker murmured, “I…uh…We’ll see!”  He gave her an awkward smile, finishing, “Thanks for the offer.”  He hurried past Victoria’s lofty legs, hoping that Cheryl was not getting restless.

“No prob, Parker…” Victoria responded with a depressed frown, watching him scamper away. 

Letting out a heavy breath of relief, Parker quickly shuffled his way out of the copy room and down the hallway, turning the corner that would lead him back to the office area.

Just have to give these to Cheryl then I can go to the bathroom and figure out what –

“Woah there!  Just the man that I was looking for!”

As Parker turned the corner, he crashed into a miniskirt-covered thigh, the crash nearly sending his papers flying across the office.  Before he craned his neck upwards, he knew who the cheery voice belonged to.  And it was the person that he avoided even when he wasn’t the size of a child.

Patricia.

The epitome of eccentricity, flirtatiousness, quirkiness, beauty, irritability, and elegance that was his boss.  The one who had given him his first job, but has gradually made him regret his decision to interview with the company since.  And to top it all off, she now had a good four feet on him.

“You should watch where you’re going, there!  Always rushing around the office like you do,” Patricia playfully scolded her nervous little employee.

Parker followed her signature yellow flats all the way up past her black miniskirt, tucked-in loose white blouse, and to face, her expression revealing how delightedly entertained she was.  He opened his mouth to apologize, greet her, or crack a self-depreciating joke.  No words came out.

“Okay then…Well I needed you discuss some logistics for Artie and Emmy’s wedding.  Shall we?”  Patricia gestured towards one of the smaller conference rooms.

“I…I need to bring these to – ”

“Oh bring them with you, whoever it is can wait.”

God.

Parker followed Patricia to the meeting room, failing to keep pace with her long strides.  With an equally amused and condescending look, she folded her arms and waited in the doorway for him.

“After you,” she said with a smirk, watching Parker slouch beneath her.  He avoided eye contact as he made his way into the room.

Entering the conference room, he was again struck with the unfamiliar familiarity of his surroundings.  The square, wooden table, the plush black roller chairs, and the sunshine-welcoming window were all there unchanged.  Only difference was that he could walk under the table without ducking and attempting to sit on one of the chairs would qualify as an Olympic event.

As if she read his mind, Patricia nonchalantly picked up Parker from behind, ignoring his surprised yelp and sitting him on an open chair.

Jeez, is this a regular thing?!

After putting her binder on the table, Patricia rolled another seat next to Parker’s.  Dwarfed by his chair, Parker watched as she bent forward to sit down, the miniskirt tightening around her mammoth bottom as she plopped down on her seat. 

She grabbed the binder and leaned towards him, searching its contents to find the schedule of events for the wedding celebration.  Meanwhile, Parker was struggling to control his anxious trembling, wiping his clammy hands on the legs of his pants.  He could see her white bra through her blouse; it barely restrained her breasts, which were large even at his former size. Also, he could smell her dizzyingly sweet perfume and was flashed a view of her red panties for a moment before she crossed her legs.  All of this obviously did nothing to ease his shaking body.

“Let’s see here…So I’m going to need you to be at the venue by three.  That work?  You have a ride set up already, right?         

“I mean…I have a car, so…”

“Ha! Let’s not joke around too much here, Parker.  I’m sure Victoria’s picking you up.”

Oh, shit.  Obviously you can’t drive, dumbass.

Parker saw Patricia slip her foot in and out of her flat, dangling the larger-than-usual shoe from the tips of her toes.

“Parker! Hey!  Let’s focus…I swear to god you live in another world sometimes.”  She grinned, always satisfied at the extra attention from her male personnel.  “Alright, well the venue should have the table decorations there already, so you can just set them…”  Patricia trailed off, trying to stifle a giggle as she looked Parker up and down, forgetting his limited reach.  Embarrassed, Parker uncomfortably ran his hands through his hair.

 “Well, you could carry…wait, no!  Um…you could help…”  Patricia pretended to page through the binder, close to breaking into a laughing fit at the munchkin’s expense.  Biting her lip, she was unable to crack a joke, saying, “Well, you could always rub my feet afterwards like you did after the Morrison’s wedding!  Remember that?!” 

Attempting to break the awkwardness, Patricia put her hand on Parker’s thigh, giggling at her own joke.  Parker tried his best to restrain his kneejerk reaction to pull away from the long fingers friendlily squeezing his leg.  He also tried to retrain the thought of massaging her putrid feet again, let alone at this size.  Humiliating.

“Loosen up, Parker!  Haha, just help Victoria with whatever she needs. Sound good?”

Parker shyly nodded.

Just let me leave…

“Alright!  Well, productive meeting!  You’re free to go.  Oh, and those are the flyers, right?  I’m meeting with Cheryl here in ten minutes or so, so you can just leave them here.”

“Okay, thanks,” Parker murmured, cautiously slipping out of his chair and bolting for the door.

Now I can finally –

“Wait!  Will you do me a little favor and bring me my coffee from my office?  Silly me, I forgot it.”

Why can’t you get it yourself, giant bitch.

“Sure thing,” Parker responded with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.  He breathlessly broke for the office in what was hopefully his last distraction before he could figure out his situation.

Parker kept his gaze plastered to the ground as he hiked through the office’s hallways.  Luckily, the two overgrown women chatting at the towering water cooler were too engrossed in their gossip to notice him pass by.

Feeling like he just ran a legitimate race around his office, Parker approached Patricia’s cracked-open office door.  Not bothering to push it open further, he squeezed past the entryway and entered the room.  Unluckily, the lights were off.

Damnit!  I just can’t get a freaking break…Now how am I gonna –

*SLAM*

“Long time no see, little friend. Grown a bit since I’ve last seen you, huh?” 

Parker knew the owner of that seductive, purring, and ethereal voice.  He just didn’t want to believe it was her.

*Flick*

Like the bright lights of a football stadium, Patricia’s office glowed to life. Within inches of Parker’s face was the smooth, thick shin of the elusive goddess that put him into this mess.  The elongated toes of her feet – which were easily three times the size of his – gave him a welcoming wiggle, excited at the prospect of causing him more confusion and torment.   

While still petrified at the sight of the blonde femme fatale, Parker by now knew the score.  He cursed himself for not realizing that the office shenanigan was just another surreal game of puppet for the Amazon.

Looking up to the ceiling as if he was about to damn the heavens, Parker called to her, yelling, “What?  So this is a fucking dream too?  What are you gonna do, say some ambiguous shit then bring in my ex again to stomp the hell out of me?”

The Amazon brought her hand to her mouth in mock offense, responding, “My my, Parker.  How rude!  Aren’t you going to compliment my professional outfit?  Don’t you find me sexy anymore?  I think I look good…”  She teasingly gestured towards her tied-back blonde hair, slowly moving her hands past her jet-black blazer, short skirt, giving him a wink as she finished at her strappy black heels.

Red with a swirling combination of frustration, embarrassment, and fear, Parker stuttered a bit, replying in a much-less-than-assertive tone, “Tell me what’s going on or just crush me and wake me up!”

Pausing for a moment, the Amazon slowly strutted to Patricia’s desk, casually reclining on the edge and coolly stretching her long legs.  Ignoring his demand, she said, “Who’s that cute hipster chick?  When’re you gonna ask her out??  I’m sure once you get over your height differences, things will be justttt dandy.”

“What are you talking about?  Don’t worry about her!”

“Well, we’re very feisty today, little man, what’s the problem? Finally tired of people literally walking all over you?”

“Shit, just tell me!  End this!  It’s not a damn game!”

“Oh I know, I know.  There’s a purpose to this, remember?  We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we shorty?”

“N…No!  I mean, I don’t think so!”  His headache unrelenting, Parker’s brain was turning into a mushy mess of out-of-control emotions and perceptual failures.

A small laugh escaped from the Amazon’s lips; she stood to her full height and began to walk towards Parker, who backed further into the corner of the office with each step that she took.  As accustomed to giant women as he was growing to be, he was still taken aback at how downright small she repeatedly managed to make him feel.  Looming high above him as he anxiously stood with his back against the wall, the Amazon looked at him with a pouty face. 

She gently crouched down, approaching his near-infinitesimal level, stopping just above him.  She extended her hand and lightly ran two of her fingers through Parker’s hair.  Comprising his entire field of view, the Amazon quietly looked into Parker’s worried brown eyes.

“You’ll see.  This will all make sense soon enough.  I hope that you figure it out.”

She slowly brought her head down to Parker’s, turning it ever-so-slightly to the right.  Her plush red lips puckered and reached toward Parker, who speechlessly looked up at her. 

With two worldly hands, she caressed the sides of his body and whispered, “Just relax.  We’ll see each other soon.  You know what you have to do.”

Their lips met, locking in a reality-defying embrace of emotion, the silence in the room indescribable.  Parker’s thoughts flatlined.  He was immobile.  The gorgeous woman carefully rested the ends of her fingers on his cheeks, gradually intensifying the movements of her mouth as she passionately and easily encompassed his existence.  As if by some external force, the lights dimmed around them, both ends inexplicably lost between dimensions.  Parker squeezed the forearms of the Amazon.  He was lost in her spirit, his ever-anxious mind sedated.

Their worlds collided for just a moment, and for that moment, physicality disappeared.  Streams of bright colors orbited their forms, absorbing every worry, every regret, and every inhibition of Parker’s.

“You see Parker, this is therapy.”

The Amazon faded away, disappearing back into the abyss.

Darkness.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe that you, like, actually put him in your sock and left him there that long!  That’s so nasty!”

“Oh, who are you to judge, Claire…”

“You know that I wasn’t serious!!  Look at him!  You probably killed the guy!”

“Bullshit, you were.  And you would’ve done the same fucking thing.  He’s fine!”

“Uh no, he isn’t!  You’re fucking scaring me, Katie.  I know you want him for Friday and everything, but we still don’t know what happened to Colleen and – ”

“Shut the fuck up bitch!  Just keep poking him, alright?  I’m gonna go check on my little sisters.  He’s not the only one we’re babysitting, remember?”

“Fine.”

Katie slammed the door, startling Claire.  Claire flashed an annoyed look and diverted her attention to the tiny man on Katie’s desk.  She leaned in close to Parker, regretting the decision a little as the stink of her friend’s foot still stuck to his skin.  He seemed to still be breathing, albeit hardly.  Claire couldn’t believe that she had left him there all night and into the next day, leaving him to breathe whatever air escaped through the openings of her shoe and through the crevices of the sock.  Claire was not used to seeing this side of Katie, who was normally giddy and compliant when Colleen was still in the picture.  In fact, the last few days had been rather eventful for her, between prom, the disappearance of Colleen, and now this thing.  God, her and Katie even had to deal with Ava’s crying and futile confrontations all day.  What could Ava even do?  Say that someone stole her shrunken man?  Regardless, Claire felt uneasy as she looked at the scientific marvel in front of her, who was twitching as if he was dreaming.  Although she thought that the hurting man probably deserved his fate, he was still a person, after all.  Claire looked at the ground, where she saw Katie’s discarded track shoes and worn black socks, still recovering from another exhausting practice.  She was scared, thoughts of an alternate scenario where she was the one stuck in her best friend’s track sock crept into her mind and refused to leave. 

Claire attempted to shrug away her disturbing contemplations, walking away from the miniature man and observing Katie’s room.  She noticed Katie’s numerous track awards, concert ticket stubs, picture frames illustrating happy times at the beach, and her iPhone, which was covered in a sleek, hot pink case.  Claire stopped and stared at the phone, maybe just for a second too long.  She looked at the door, looked at Parker, then back at the phone.  Katie would kill her. 

Before she could think better of it, Claire snatched the phone and unlocked it.  Thankfully, no passcode.  Curious to see which boy(s) she was talking to, she expertly scrolled through her recent texts.  “Mom,” “Claire,” “Little Sis.”  Nothing exciting.  Still hearing the sounds of Katie playing with her little sisters downstairs, she tapped her way over to her incoming and outgoing calls.  Her eyes almost immediately jumped to a missed call from Colleen.  The call was missed at 1:17 A.M. the morning after prom.  With it now Tuesday night, the call must’ve been made a few days ago.  Claire frenetically tapped through another window to see if Colleen had left a voicemail.  She did.  After a moment of apprehensive hesitation, she held the phone to her ear.

“KATIE! HELP!  Me and my boyfriend were kidnapped!  But…but you CAN’T tell anybody!  My mom will have a fucking fit if she knew what I did!  Holy shit holy shit holy shit please!  We’re in the basement of some office building!  I used my GPS to find out the address…it’s…let me get it up…154 Bedlington Gardens! Hurry! Ah, no I’m not calling anybody! Please!  PLEASE!  Please don’t I’m sorr – ”

Katie’s bedroom door flew open. 

Caught.