Emilia rode her motorcycle in no particular direction, weaving and zipping through the city streets. The road was empty, though she could hear the faint roar of traffic somewhere. The wind in her face was a welcome relief from the mounting heat of the day. The sky was empty, a blank slate waiting for her to do with it what she pleased.

Kaleb’s day was not quite as free as Emilia’s. His head remained stuck in the vice-like grip of the toes. The old, sour layer of grime had dissolved in the influx of new sudor, producing a vile combination of the fresh, salty sweat and stale bitterness. Occasionally, she would scrunch the fleshy appendages together, cutting off his breath and circulating the raunchy air inside the boot. Somehow, through all this torture, Kaleb remained unhurt.

It was stiflingly hot even outside Kaleb’s toe sauna, making the inside of the shoe completely unbearable. More and more sweat continued to pour from between Emilia’s toes, filling the insole of the boot and forming a shallow pool. Without socks, there was nothing to soak up the excess.

Adding to Kaleb’s growing list of woes was the wild, bucking motion, and the fact that all of it was happening in utter darkness. He was dazed, disoriented, and disgusted.

By the time Emilia decided to stop somewhere, the pool of sweat collecting at the bottom of her boot had swelled to six inches deep (from his perspective, of course), and the scent had exploded to unimaginable levels. To make matters worse, the crevice of her pinky toe was sweating heavily, drenching his hair and causing him to swallow several mouthfuls of perspiration.

The relative regularity of Emilia’s gait was a welcome change, even if it squeezed his body a bit more than he liked. The sour reek had acquired a cheesier by tang now, and Kaleb was growing a little more accustomed to it.

Without much warning, Emilia took off her boot. He was dragged along by her toe down the sole of the shoe, before her foot lifted up and out. He slipped from her grasp and dropped into the squelching foam of the insole. Above him was a pale circle of light, blinding after so long in complete darkness. For the first time, he could see this little hell he had been trapped in.

The interior of Emilia’s boot looked no better than it smelled. It shone on all sides with moisture, some of it dripping down in glimmering rivulets. The insole itself was torn up and flaky, with several small, rubbery pieces lying in the vast plain of the shoe.

Actually, the boot seemed a little too large. Kaleb crawled into the light to confirm his mounting suspicions. Now with some reference to compare himself with, he realized he’d shrunk yet again, and now stood at only about a quarter inch tall.

Kaleb had long since stopped trying to find any sort of rhyme or reason to the fever dream that had become his life. He was coming to accept the fact that his height was no longer a constant, but rather an ever-changing variable in the equation of his survival. He also realized that his strategy of getting Emilia’s attention was no longer a very good one. She probably wouldn’t notice him at this size, no matter how much he flailed around.

Kaleb sat down, causing a droplet of lukewarm sweat to ooze out of the fabric. There weren’t very many good options. He could try to leave the shoe by climbing up and out of the heel, but he’d need to climb up several hundred yards before reaching the rim of boot. And then what? Jump?

He could try heading to one of the edges, so that Emilia would be less likely to crush him when she put her foot back in. He had a feeling that if he were to try that, the violent motion would put him underfoot whether he liked it or not. As much as he hated to admit it, the best place for him was between her toes, where he’d be safe from slipping under her sole.

Having prepared his new strategy, Kaleb got up and began the long trek back into the toe of the boot. The atmosphere became heavier and more oppressive as he went, the sour, cheesy reek quickly strengthening. His eyes watered, and he found it difficult to suppress the racking coughs.

His eyes eventually readjusted to the darkness of the boot, and he found himself gazing at the greasy imprint of his torturer’s feet. The insole had been gradually eaten way by the repetitive pressure of Emilia’s walking, leaving a clear indentation in the shape of her sole. As Kaleb approached the very tip of the boot, the toe imprints seemed more like lunar craters.

Kaleb paused for the moment on the edge of the precipice, looking down at the dark circle that represented Emilia’s big toe. Then it dawned on him that he was standing on the outermost side of the boot, and that the imprint he now saw was indeed the smallest of them. Without his noticing, he had shrunk yet again. He now stood at a mere tenth of an inch.

Just as Kaleb realized the sudden change in stature, he was jolted off his feet and into the greasy abyss. He slid down the crater as the boot was shaken, and the dim light was snuffed out. It was only all too clear what was happening. Kaleb tried desperately to climb his way out of the pit, but he found the surface too slick to gain any traction. At his miniscule size, even the shallow indentation proved too great an obstacle. He felt the air move around him in the pitch blackness, sensing the approach of Emilia’s toes, utterly unable to do anything about it.

A moment before her pinky toe landed, Kaleb could feel the air compress ever so slightly, as if tensing up. Then, the building-sized appendage crashed down on top of him.

It was a humbling experience, having someone’s smallest toe so completely dominate you. Kaleb was totally immobilized by the crushing weight. His mind went fuzzy as a result of the renewed and intensified scent. Worst of all, there seemed to be a thin layer of gritty filth surrounding him on all sides. Emilia clearly hadn’t thought to take a shower when she slipped off the boot.

For an eternity, Kaleb lay prone, smashed against the underside of this woman’s toe. Untold quantities of her sweat slid into his mouth and down his throat. By now, he was starting to become desensitized to the experience.

For no reason at all, Emilia’s foot began pressing down harder, putting even greater pressure on him and squeezing more foul sudor from the tattered insole. Kaleb accidentally inhaled some, immediately triggering uncontrollable spasms and retching. The next moment, her toe lifted, flinging his convulsing body into dark, empty space.

Batted around between Emilia’s immense, unseen digits, Kaleb gave up on trying to resist. Even if he could see them, there was no way he could do anything to stop her toes. One might as well try to stay the wrath of god.

For better or for worse, Kaleb ended up lodged in one of the toe crevices, though he was entirely unable to guess which one. All he knew was that the warm, reeking flesh clutched him from all sides, undulating, its motions more powerful than any embrace. He remained limp in its grasp, knowing that any resistance could result in a shattered arm, or worse. Kaleb was soon surrounded by greasy cotton fibers and lumps of unidentified rubbery material.

The lint held him in place, like any other piece of toe jam. The cotton was much too strong for him to tear it. To make matters even worse, the lint was had marinated in Emilia’s sweat for at least a few days, making it even more pungent than the rest of the boot.

Kaleb remained there, immobilized by the humble piece of sock lint. He managed to rest up a little, though the disorienting combination of violent motion and the cheesy funk prevented him from recovering in any meaningful way.

When Emilia took off her boot, Kaleb almost didn’t notice. His reaction to the sudden, blinding light was delayed, but he eventually tried turning his head to shield his eyes from it. Even this minor motion was restricted by the lint. His own weakness was becoming painfully clear.

Looking down, he noticed his own body was encrusted with sweat and flecks of dead skin, forming a rough, wet cocoon. He hated to think how it would feel once it dried out. The enormous toes on either side of him wiggled, partially dislodging the lint. His stomach leapt into his throat as he and the huge cotton prison slipped down and crashed onto the floor.

From his new position, Kaleb saw Emilia’s toes as great cliffs or mountains, flesh-colored masses rising into the sky. The skin between the toes was wrinkled and crisscrossed with shallow fissures, some of which held yellow flecks of a more organic kind of toe jam. The whole foot was flushed and damp with accumulated perspiration. When the great toes wiggled, they wafted a renewed scent in his direction.

Looking even further up, Kaleb was able to make out some of the rest of Emilia’s body, though much of it was out of view. She appeared to be sitting down on something. Her face was just visible past her knee, but she was looking ahead, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the crud between her toes. Of course she wasn’t. It would be weird is she did.

Without ever acknowledging the bit of sock lint, or the human life so closely bonded to it, Emilia got up and walked away. The air she displaced was enough to send the greasy cotton ball flying under some piece of furniture. A forgotten speck of dust left to rot in the dark.

At least the smell was a little better.