The violent squeaking of rubber soles on compass carved wood roared among giants. Monsters that could only look down on him were left in charge of his fate. A hum of indignation, sour glances and feigned ignorance to his plight drove him on. The name Sally, with a straight sharp ‘S’ scratched underfoot. He tread over several cutting insults each with an etched in arrow pointing a different direction. Barrelling forward at a breakneck pace, Parker gave himself less than a moment to swivel on his heels, tuck his knees in tight and throw his right arm backward to compensate for a crabwalk lean. He pushed off from the skin textured pillar that had called for his evasive action into an athletic sprint. Back at full pace he had to move without hesitation. He sank into a roll avoiding a second columnar digit crushing through his ribcage. The soft thump of ridged skin collapsing into marked up wood confirmed his success. With a growing ego, and boundless confidence he threaded easily through two more pillars, only to be greeted by the dissatisfaction of a second set of impatiently tapping fingers. Their heavy descent, rapid retraction and the clawing scrapes of nail against wood between cast any lingering doubt aside. She knew he was there.

 A vertically affected victim’s worth was only equal to that of what whomever laid claim to them perceived it to be. A pet, a slave or a limp lifeless body balled up in a snotty tissue thrown care-freely into a waiting bin. This last image stayed particularly pertinent in Parker’s mind, recalling the incident of Mary Walling blowing her nose into her boyfriend. He had been sat back casually resting on a tissue Mary had pulled out for him, when he was yanked up instinctively. A loud sneeze followed by an ‘oh crap’ had silenced a room. Parker was much younger then, the whole size reduction phenomenon was still in its infancy. Even now though, not much was known about it. The trial of the incident came to the conclusion that the death of Mary's boyfriend was nothing more than an indiscretion. This was one of the first of many cases, paving a way for a precedent that meant you couldn’t be charged for deliberately maiming, killing, torturing or performing any other act that would normally be considered unlawful or immoral on a size impaired person. In the words of the law, “They were no longer a person”.

 Which is why it mattered so much to Parker who got to him first. Being malicious was just as bad as being clumsy. At least a scorned ex would be careful enough to keep you safe until they had carried out their ninety nine point revenge plan. He wasn’t planning on belonging to this set of butterfly-painted nails. As far as he was concerned he didn’t know this girl and that made her all the more dangerous. Her enamoured giggles salted his core. His heart sank as he saw more and more of her palm. Her outstretched tapping fingers had curled together in a cupping gesture blocking his escape. Turning back around he was faced with another suspiciously hand shaped wall. The two of them closing in, clasping together to the rapturous delight of his enemy from above.

‘I think you’ve lost’ the words whistled through a sardonic grin.

He stood and turned to her, for the first time really looking at her. A dust-clad faded leather look jacket lined with a bright purple hoodie swamped what he would consider to be a petit figure. Underneath it, she wore a personalised, formfitting t-shirt that hugged her tightly. A brown swathe of hair waved down her angular face. Soft chocolate eye gazed past her elf-like nose and a look of playful curiosity turned into a patchwork grin of power, predilection and predetermination. The pale of her cheeks reddened with her first thoughts.

‘Hello pretty monster’ he beamed up impishly. Charm was his only defence now, as a last-ditch feeble stand.

A humongous finger unfurled itself. Coming to a rest on his shoulder. He felt the weight of it burdening down on him, knowing that it didn’t need him to hold it up. The moment seemed to pass soft and slow, the tip gently warmed against his face. The feeling was incredible, that something so large could be so gentle. As the moment caught back up to real time he felt a stinging sensation all over his face. He was looking up at the finger from the flat of his back. Infectious giggling filled the air around him. A flick was all it took to knock him back before he had even known what had hit him.

‘Do you really think I’m pretty’ she teased down in an unassuming manner. Sweet enough to lower any man’s guard but with implications of a wrong answer enough to raise it back up again, leaving a steeled nervous wreck.  

‘Do you recognise me?’ he called up, ‘it’s Parker.’ The words began scratchy and tearful, before they started pouring out, ‘It’s not my first name, that’s Nick, Nick Parker. I don’t know why you would. I don’t recognise you. I don’t think this is my class, I was just in the room before and’

Nick was cut off by another flick, this time to his gut.

‘Well Nick, Nick Parker. That’s not what I asked you’ she saw him clutch his stomach and the look of concern he wore changed into one of distress, eyes shut tight and through gritted teeth he whimpered. He was a cornered animal now, No, she thought, cornered animals at least put up a fight, ‘Do you really think I’m pretty?’

‘Yes I do’ he replied, anything to stop her from flicking him again.

‘And you were running about on the table tops looking for someone to find you?’

‘Yes I was’ he managed to wheeze out.

‘Well then you’re in luck’ she met the stirring look of confusion in his eyes, ‘I’m someone, I found you, and you think I’m pretty. Can’t get much luckier than that. Especially at your size.’

Her hand was already curling him into her palm before he could object. Parker quickly learned that screaming when muffled by the gigantic palm of your new owner’s hand wasn’t nearly as satisfying as an un-muffled scream. But it was a damn sight scarier.

Kit dumped Parker into an inner pocket of her jacket, zipping it shut and letting it settle back into place as she too settled back in her seat.  She let herself drift back into her thoughts feeling the padded tickles of his frantically flailing body against her chest. The rest of the students in the lecture continued doing the same. Eyes staring forward blankly. It was much easier to ignore what had just happened than to have to start answering questions about “what doing the right thing” meant anymore. Out of sight out of mind. Of course a frantically thrashing Nick Parker did not share the same view, anymore. 

We're going to have to change that name, she smiled.