14. 1/2 inch. Aware/Unaware. F/f/m.

My wife and I were shrunk down to ½ an inch tall when the mysterious shrinking virus spread across the country, miniaturizing around 10% of the population. Luckily, we were found a few hours later by her family, and we both stayed at her parents’ house, with her mom and dad and 19 year old younger sister. We were treated well by her family. They took care of us while we waited for answers, and hopefully a cure.

Summer had arrived, and our giant protectors decided to go on a beach trip, a three hour drive to the coast, to hang and relax for a weekend.

“Are we bringing, you know, them?” 

My wife’s younger sister and her mother are towering above us as we stand on their kitchen counter. The teenager’s enormous index finger points down at us, her short, manicured nail our exact height.

“Of course, they’re part of the family, are they not?” The mother leans down to us. “Yes, you two are coming. We’ll be careful, make sure you’re okay. It’ll be fun!”

Her massive lips and glistening white teeth cover the sky above us. Her mother is terrifying to me, but at the same time, we know that she cares about our safety. My wife’s sister, though, she’s a little more reckless. I mean, she’s never tried to hurt us, but, you know, she’s still a teenager. Her finger rises away from us as she crosses her arms and looks at us. Jesus, she is beautiful. I really don’t want to inconvenience her on this trip, but their mother is dead set on us going.

Their dad decides to drive separately since he has to leave early for work (thank God he’s leaving, he’s not too friendly to me). My mother-in-law plans to drive us, with her daughter sitting shotgun.

“You just hold your sister and her husband in your hand while we’re traveling. We’ll be there before you know it.”

“I don’t want to hold them the whole time, I wanna have fun, not take care of these tiny people!”

“You won’t, Jesus, calm down! Just pick them up so we can get going.”

The enormous right hand of my wife’s younger sister falls palm up next to us on the kitchen counter. She glares down at us. “C’mon, hop on.”

I look apprehensively at my wife, but she just shrugs, and we both step up onto the soft pale flesh of her younger sister’s palm. The hand swiftly rises, and she carries us out of the house and into their car.

My mother-in-law starts her car, and the worst music starts playing, the sappiest jazz I’ve ever heard. “Uh, mom, I’m putting in my headphones, okay? This is terrible.”

“Suit yourself! Just take care of your tiny sister and her husband, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine.”

I look up at her, and she’s staring down at us with the scowl of an annoyed teenager, her long fingers rising high above our small forms. With her free hand, she grabs her bluetooth headphones from her bag between her feet and plugs her ears to listen to whatever teen crap she likes.

“Well, I guess we’ll just sit on my sister’s palm here,” my wife says to me. “Wish we could at least see out the window.”

Occasionally, the giantess girl’s leg (on which her hand carrying us is resting) starts twitching from boredom or to the beat of her music, and my wife and I are tossed about in her fleshy palm a bit, like in a minor earthquake. My wife tries to stand to yell up to her little sister to stop, but she’s constantly distracted by her phone in her other hand, oblivious to us. The sister eventually places her phone back into her bag, and she stares vacantly out the car window. If she ever looks down to check on us, I don’t see it. She’s in her own teenage world; she couldn’t care less about the bug-sized people in her palm.

After some time, while my wife and I sit bored and casually chatting, I notice that the hand we’re in slowly sliding toward the front of the car. We quickly look up to find our giantess protector falling asleep. My wife jumps up and begins stomping her feet on the palm of her sister, doing whatever she can to rouse the girl.,

“Wake up, wake up, idiot!” she yells. But clearly, this long early morning car ride has made her sleepy.

With nothing to hold onto, as the hand tilts even more, my wife and I both tumble between the long index and middle fingers of the girl. We fall down to the knee of her right leg, then continue to slide down the leg onto the top of her sandaled foot. I’ve lost track of my wife as I bounce a bit across the massive soft foot and onto the middle of her big toe (luckily not hurt because of my tiny size). I finally come to a rest and stand to watch my wife tumble down between the big toe and second toe, down the leather of the sandal. She soon disappears from my view. I run as close as I can to the edge of the big toe (without falling off myself) to try to find where she ended up, and I see her unmoving on her back lying on the base on the sandal nearer to the nail of the giant girl’s second toe.

“Get up, stand up!” I yell, afraid that she might slide under her sister’s foot and be crushed under her massive sole. My wife rises slowly; she’s alive but very dazed. I run across the toe to the massive nail. After 15 seconds or so, I jump onto the smooth big toenail of the giant 19 year old. It’s painted a light pink with specks of glitter on it, well pedicured with a bit of growth on it.

“Honey, wake up,” I hear my giant mother-in-law say. “Wait, where’s your sister and her husband?”

The big toe I’m standing on flies upwards, and I slide to the cuticle of the nail, tumble over it, and fall down to the middle of the top of her foot.

“Oh my God, where are they? Did you drop them?” I hear my mother-in-law yell at her daughter. “I’m pulling over!”

Seconds later, the car comes to a stop. The foot I’m on falls to the side, and I tumble off onto the carpeted floor mat in the passenger foot well. I look around and luckily find my wife lying on her back, staring up at the massive leather shoe sole of her little sister.

“Run, follow me,” I scream at her. “They don’t know where we are!”

My wife turns her head to me and rises. She heads to me and grabs my hand as we hustle past the enormous heel to hide out under the seat of the car. She falls to her knees, and I collapse next to her.

We look out from under the car seat at her little sister’s feet moving about as she searches for us above.

“I don’t know, mom, they were in my hand, I guess I just dozed off. Why am I in charge of them?”

“Honey, get out of the car, see if maybe they fell on the floor mats.”

The passenger car door opens up, and the sandaled feet of the girl leave our view as she exits the car. Soon, her right hand comes down on the carpeted mat, and her gigantic face falls near us.

“Mom, I don’t know… wait, here they are, hiding under the seat. They’re fine.”

The giant sister’s eyes finally locate us. Her hand flips over as she places her palm directly next to us.

“Jump on, you little fucks. I swear to God, if you two bugs get me in trouble this weekend, I’m fucking crush you on purpose. Don’t get lost again.”

My wife looks at me with a worried face. She doesn’t move.

“Get in my hand right now. Don’t test me.”

This might be a long weekend.