David’s feet dangled over the edge of the plush chair, his legs too short to reach the ground, a sight that had become the norm in his life at 3’1’’. Despite his immaculate grooming and tailored attire, his diminutive stature often made him feel more like a curiosity than a man. He fiddled with his watch as he prepared to speak, his eyes darting up to his therapist, Vera, who loomed in her high-backed chair with an effortless presence.
Vera was 6’6”, an undeniable force of nature. Her black, fitted attire highlighted her commanding stature, and the slight tilt of her sharp glasses gave her a penetrating gaze. Her legs, impossibly long and crossed elegantly, ended in sleek heels that seemed as imposing as David himself.
“Go ahead, David,” Vera said, her tone calm and professional, though her curiosity shone in her eyes.
David sighed. “It’s not just the looks or the comments anymore. It’s… everything. Doors are too heavy. Tables are too high. People laugh when I try to use a step stool, but what choice do I have? It’s like the world was built for everyone but me.”
Vera nodded, though her thoughts momentarily drifted. She couldn’t help but notice how small he seemed—almost fragile—yet his voice carried a weight of resilience that intrigued her. As David spoke, her mind unintentionally wandered. She imagined standing beside him, her frame towering over his like a monument. What would it feel like to rest her palm on his head or—her lips curled slightly in amusement—to step on him accidentally like a true giant?
She shook herself back to focus. “That must be exhausting,” she said empathetically. “Constantly having to adapt to a world that’s not designed for you.”
“It is,” David admitted. “But I try not to let it get to me. I’ve learned to anticipate people’s reactions. The gawking, the jokes—it doesn’t sting as much anymore. What does sting is how isolating it can feel.”
Vera leaned forward, her interest genuine. “How so?”
David hesitated, glancing down. “People treat me like I’m less. Less capable, less worthy of respect. Even when they’re kind, there’s always this… pity. Like I’m something to be protected, not someone to be taken seriously.”
Vera’s lips pressed into a thin line. She couldn’t imagine such a feeling. Her height and presence commanded respect everywhere she went. If anything, she often felt too much attention, too many eyes on her. “Do you ever get angry about it?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But what’s the point? It’s not like I can change the world—or myself.”
Vera nodded, though the gears in her mind turned. The contrast between their lives fascinated her. She had always been the one towering over others, her height a source of confidence and curiosity for those around her. But David? He lived on the other end of the spectrum entirely.
Her gaze flicked to his tiny shoes, dangling a good foot above the floor. Her own feet shifted, her size 16s enclosed in sleek black pumps. She could imagine her foot being nearly half the length of his leg, if not more. She felt a sudden, unbidden urge to test the comparison, to stretch out her leg and align her shoe next to him. Would his entire torso match the length of her foot?
“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” she asked, her voice gentle but curious.
David shrugged. “You’re the therapist. Shoot.”
“Do you ever think about… how your size makes others feel?”
David tilted his head, surprised. “You mean, like how they see me?”
“Yes, but also how it affects them emotionally.” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “You have a unique presence, David. I imagine it leaves an impression—good or bad—on nearly everyone you meet.”
David chuckled softly. “I guess I’ve never thought about it like that. I’m usually too busy trying to get through the day.”
Vera smiled faintly, her imagination drifting again. She thought about how she must appear to him—gigantic, almost monstrous in scale. The image of her shadow falling over his diminutive form flashed in her mind. And then, a peculiar thought entered unbidden: What would it feel like to step on him?
The thought startled her, though it didn’t entirely repulse her. Her feet, currently crossed under her chair, shifted slightly. His entire frame couldn’t be more than three of her footprints in length. The power disparity intrigued her in ways she didn’t dare voice aloud.
David’s voice broke through her reverie. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh,” Vera said, blinking. “It’s just… I find your perspective fascinating. You’re resilient in a way most people can’t even comprehend.”
David gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Resilience is just what happens when life doesn’t give you a choice.”
Vera smiled warmly, though her thoughts lingered on the difference between them. In her mind’s eye, she stood over him, an emblem of everything he wasn’t: large, imposing, powerful. Yet, she couldn’t help but admire the strength it took to live a life like his.
“David,” she said softly, “I think you’re far more remarkable than you realize.”
David met her gaze, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Thanks, I guess.”
As the session drew to a close, Vera felt a strange mix of awe and respect for her tiny client. He was a man of incredible resolve, living in a world that dwarfed him at every turn. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from imagining what it might feel like to test the limits of that difference—to feel the true scale of their disparity.
Perhaps, she thought with a sly smile as David hopped off the chair and headed for the door, that was a question for another day.
David had just slipped off the oversized chair, his feet touching the ground with a soft tap. He adjusted his jacket, ready to make his way out, when Vera's voice halted him.
“Wait,” she said, standing from her seat.
David turned, craning his neck to look up at her. The difference between them felt even more pronounced now that she was fully upright, her towering frame casting a long shadow across the room.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice cautious but curious.
Vera hesitated for a moment, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. “Before you go… can I ask one more thing?”
David raised an eyebrow. “Sure, I guess. What’s on your mind?”
She stepped closer, each stride purposeful but unhurried, and stopped a few feet in front of him. From this distance, the disparity between them felt almost surreal. His head barely reached her hips, and she had to look straight down to meet his eyes.
“I hope this doesn’t sound strange,” she began, her tone careful, “but… I’ve been curious about something.”
David shifted his weight. “Curious about what?”
Her lips curled into a faint, slightly sheepish smile. “The size difference between us. It’s just so…” She paused, searching for the right word. “... striking.”
David blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. It tends to be.”
She chuckled softly, then gestured down to herself. “Would you mind if we… compared? Just for a moment.”
“Compared?” he repeated, his brow furrowing.
“Yes. I’d like to see how small you really are next to me. I think it might help me better understand your perspective.” Her voice was steady, but there was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes that she couldn’t quite hide.
David hesitated, unsure how to feel about the request. On the one hand, it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d heard—people had always been curious about his size. On the other hand, coming from Vera, it felt more personal.
“I guess I don’t mind,” he said finally, shrugging.
Vera smiled, and before he could change his mind, she took another step closer. Standing directly in front of him now, she looked down, her towering figure making him feel even smaller. Slowly, she uncrossed her arms and gestured to her leg.
“Let’s start with this,” she said, slipping off one of her heels and extending her foot. “Would you mind standing next to my foot?”
David’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he obliged, stepping to the side. He glanced down and immediately noticed how much larger her foot was compared to his. Even without the heel, her size 16 foot dwarfed his considerably smaller shoe.
“That’s… wow,” Vera said, a touch of awe in her voice. She tilted her head, imagining the full scale of the comparison. “The difference is bigger than I thought.”
David gave a small laugh. “Yeah, well, welcome to my world.”
Vera’s eyes sparkled as she stepped back into her heel. “Thank you for humoring me. I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable. I’m just… fascinated by how different our experiences must be.”
David shrugged. “Honestly? I’m used to people being curious. At least you’re not being rude about it.”
“That’s good to hear.” She hesitated again, then added, “Would you mind one last thing?”
David raised an eyebrow. “What now?”
She grinned, folding her arms. “Stand next to me for a moment. I want to see how we measure up.”
David smirked despite himself. “Alright, but don’t make it weird.”
As he stepped closer, Vera straightened to her full height, and the contrast was staggering. His head didn’t even reach her waist, and her long legs alone seemed to encompass his entire height. Vera looked down at him, her expression a mix of amazement and curiosity.
“Wow,” she said softly. “I think I understand a little better now.”
David chuckled. “Told you. My life’s basically a circus act everywhere I go.”
Vera smiled warmly, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Well, for what it’s worth, you handle it better than most people would.”
“Thanks,” he said, glancing up at her. “Anything else, or can I go now?”
Vera chuckled, stepping back. “That’s all for today. Thank you, David. I’ll see you next week?”
“Yeah,” he replied, heading toward the door.
As he left, Vera couldn’t help but watch him go, her mind still lingering on the sheer scale of their difference. She shook her head, smiling to herself.