Charlie took a sip of coffee as he mulled what had just been said to him. The notes were woody on his palette and reminiscent of his surroundings – a varnished mahogany interior dimly illuminated by beams of daylight that shone between the thick wooden bars above the room’s eastern wall.

“Yep, it’s not a bad life” he responded as the journalist sitting across from him scribbled away. “The family – they’re good to me. Not many get to live in a place like this.”

“You don’t feel at all… undignified?” prodded the journalist. She seemed very professional – perhaps a little too professional in her effort to compensate for a lack of experience.

“Do I look undignified?” Charlie responded, placing his coffee on the table. “I certainly don’t feel undignified. It’s as good a job as any, and the living situation is better than anything even a decent salary would get me in this economy.”

“Right. And the family, they--”

The journalist let out a brief yelp as the room shook, a loud thud coming from the ceiling. Charlie didn’t flinch.

“Looks like Michelle’s home. You’re welcome to come and watch me work,” said Charlie as he fixed a small device to his ear. The journalist looked a little scared and she briefly considered declining. No… that would look bad.

“S-sure.”

“Follow me,” said Charlie, moving toward the spiral staircase in the centre of the room. “What was your name again, by the way?”

“Jess. Jessica.”

“Right. Sorry Jessica. I speak to a lot of reporters these days.”

Jess followed Charlie slowly up the staircase. She stopped to wait for him to open the hatch, and then climbed out after him. She had an idea of what to expect, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw as she raised her head. In front of her were two massive, smooth heels. She lifted her head further, her gaze rising along two nearly symmetrical fleshy monuments, both wrinkled and slightly damp. At the top of each were five colossal toes far, far above her – steady and unmoving. Jess was mesmerised, and barely noticed Charlie walking straight towards them.

“Hello, Mrs. Taylor! I hope you had a good day at work,” she heard Charlie said at speaking volume.

“Oh Charlie. It was terrible!” the voice behind the two towering feet bellowed from afar. “They blocked off the road to the office and I had to walk back to my car in the rain! Sorry my soles are a little damp.”

“Oh Mrs. Taylor, that sounds awful!” said Charlie as he stood at the base of the giant woman’s sole, chalking his hands thoroughly. “Just in case you forgot, we have another journalist here today – this one is a bit closer to my size than yours,” he chuckled. Jess went red.

“Yes, yes, I remember. Come round so I can see you little one!”

Jess hurried to the empty space between Michelle's soles before she could even think, driven partially by fear. A denim canyon blinkered her view as she adjusted her focus to the behemoth face in the distance. A blonde woman, early forties – though Jess would say thirty if she didn’t know better. Michelle Taylor, CEO of Taylor Industries and the current hot topic in all things related to shrinking, in the flesh and relaxed as ever with her arms spread miles across the sofa.

“H-h-hello.” Jess stammered.

“Oh, darling. Aren’t you adorable!”

“Th-thank you.”

“Charlie, is she talking?”

“Yes Mrs. Taylor. She says thank you.” Responded a voice above Jess. She turned to her left and could now see Charlie at least an inch above her, masterfully kneading between the various wrinkles and crevices of his mistress’s soles.

“I understand you’ve come to ask me some questions,” said Michelle, “but I’m more interested to hear about you! So just how does a little tiny person such as yourself become a journalist, hmm?”

No response.

“Charlie, throw her an earpiece for God’s sake!”

A clack on the ground. Jess picked it up and fixed it to the side of her head.

“C-can you hear me now? Miche- Mrs. Taylor?”

“Isn’t that sweet. You can call me Michelle if you want. Shouldn’t I be afraid of you?” she laughed as the two colossal walls wobbled on either side of Jess. “After all, it seems all journalists wants these days is to get a hitpiece from me!

“I… I was just interested to…”

“Jess. That’s your name, yes? I said I wanted to know how you were a journalist at your size. Then I’ll answer your questions, hmm?” She smiled.

“Yes. Yes. Of course. Well, I guess journalism is all about covering different perspective, right? Well, I figured that – because some big people might want to know about tiny perspectives – then there would be a kind of appeal to reading the work of a tiny journalist. Don’t you think? Well, CGNN bought that pitch…”

Michelle continued to smile.

“So, erm… What’s it like to be the one of the world’s top 100 richest women?” Jess cringed. Come on, she could do better than that.

Michelle's smile faltered. It was going to be one of those types of interviews. “It's... good. It was difficult getting here, sure, but I'd much rather be up here than down there,” she said matter-of-factly, wriggling her toes.

“R-right.” Jess blushed. Get it together, girl! She consulted her notebook.

“The other thing I wanted to ask, was – your daughters, are they--”

“Oh, yes Charlie! God, that feels good. You should really try this sometime, Jess – he's a real expert!” Michelle laughed.

This condescending, sarcastic giantess! Thinking she's better than any tiny purely because of her size... they're all the same. Jess closed her notebook.

“A-anyway. What I… what some people really wanted to know was, well, isn’t it a little degrading for someone to own another human? Or a family, like? To own another human?”

“Well, well, well,” began Michelle, her smile returning. It took on a different form than before. “Now we're getting interesting! And if it was degrading, say – to be owned by another human – then why on earth would Charlie choose to do it?”

Jess had no immediate answer.

“Either it’s not degrading, or he doesn’t mind being degraded... Hell, does it even matter? Haven’t you already asked him this question?”

Jess trembled slightly as Charlie continued to work at pampering Michelle’s sole above her.

“Charlie, is it degrading?” asked Michelle.

“No, Mrs. Taylor.”

“See?”

Jess wanted out. This felt off. How the hell had she been roped into this?

“Jess, I get that you’re new. But if you want to do some real reporting – I mean, stuff that would really sell – I would recommend you do something a bit more… hands on than the usual inane line of questioning.”

Jess froze. She couldn’t be saying…

“Come on Jess. You say you want to understand the world from Charlie’s perspective--”

“But I never--” Jess tried to interrupt.

“So if that's true – and you really do want to be a good little investigative reporter – then why don’t you give my feet a rub, hmm?”