Hannah has left me on the floor, on an area that she calls “safe from her squishy squashy mighty footsteps”. She’s formed a wall using what looks like her blanket, creating a circular wall around me. In this area she’s placed a bunch of everyday items for me to explore, and play with. Play with! I’m not a kid to play with things, but I’d both rather humor her and of course spend my free time doing something than just sitting on a spot. As for Hannah, she is sitting on her chair, working on some kind of homework for tomorrow. She told me that since we played enough already, it’d be unfair and boring for me to be squished between her once again socked toes while she’s doing that. Whatever, I would have done that anyway if that’s where she wanted me.

The most surprising item that’s left for me is a toy car. She thought it’d be cute for tiny me to play around in a tiny toy car. Of course, the scale on the car is bigger than mine, so I end up being as tall as one of the wheels on it. It’s a car made for giants – even though my giant ex-roommates would have probably been too big to fit in. The car is shiny blue, and everything on it is metallic, even the wheels. She’s left the little door open, so I walk over there and look inside. The plastic interior does not look too inviting – it is plastic, plus everything is too big. I reach and climb in the car, and onto the seat. I can stand on the seat and my head doesn’t reach the ceiling of the car. I’m too small and too weak to even considering closing the door. If I sit down on it, my legs can’t reach past the seat, never mind trying to reach the floor, and my hands cannot even get close to the massive toy wheel. I shiver as I think that if there was a baby seat in this scale, I would still be too small to fit in properly.

When Hannah placed that car on the floor a few minutes ago, she told me that there is an old movie that she likes watching. It’s about a little kid who gets blown up to gigantic size and runs around a city. At some point, the kid picks up real cars as if they are toys, and the people inside have to survive the ride of their lives in his pudgy, gigantic hands. I’ve not watched this movie, but I don’t doubt that Hanna’s enormous hand might grab my vehicle and push it around. I hope I can just hold on and not be thrown around like a tiny ragdoll inside the plastic interior, that would hurt me. I’m sure that in her movie, those people had seatbelts! I also wonder if a real car would be able to withstand the pressure of an uncaring, playing kid’s hand. It would probably fold like foil and the tiny passengers would be squished into oblivion. I’m glad I’m in a toy, that at least for its scale, is more sturdy than real cars. She could probably step on it and all that would happen is that she’s hurt her foot and my ride would get launched who knows how far.

I hop off the car and walk around it. Yep, it’s huge, even if it’s just a toy!

I look around the area. There are more things that Hannah has left for me to explore. Among them, there is a pair of socks and a pair of black leather boots that “we’ll be wearing later on so please get used to these please”, as she told me. I look over at her towering form in the distance. She’s still busy with her homework, and I guess she’ll be for a while, so there is no rush to get back into her shoes just yet. I look around for other interesting things to explore.

I walk up to something else. It’s a massively long and somewhat less wide piece of paper. It would be almost flat, but while its edges touch the floor, the middle of it is slightly raised. It’s as if the paper used to be rolled tightly in, well, a roll, before it was torn off. I hop on the paper and head to the top. My heart races as I read the letters that are almost as big as I am tall:

>>>Aunt Mina’s Tiny People Shop<<<

I keep reading the next few lines, which are, I guess, an address and a phone number. I walk further down, and I see the unmistakable record of my own sale. It takes much more space to print “1 tiny, male, quarter inch, runty, as is, no returns” than the space my whole existence takes. Next to the flattering description, there are the numbers. $2000, the price of a life, of a tiny human being. Even though I was raised and trained for this, I feel my stomach clench for a moment, as I realize how truly insignificant I am to those giant people. For a moment, my previous conversations with Hannah vanish, and I am just a thing for her, much like the toy car, or her clothes. Just a bit more expensive, that’s all. I walk further down, to where she signed her signature. The thick scribble is in blue ink, and the whole shape, is, surprise, much bigger than I am. I easily lie down on the script “H” at the beginning of her signature and feel the paper with my hands. The force of her writing has deformed the paper slightly, causing a valley where her pen wrote, indenting the paper. I can feel it easily with my hands. The blue ink has dried since yesterday, but I can still feel it in my hands. She signed with more ink than I have blood in my body, I’m sure. And yet, while the receipt makes me feel somewhat sick, there is something soothing about Hannah’s signature. It could have been anyone else, and I could have been a snack or worse by now, but I’m not.

I wonder what was she thinking when she left that receipt for me to “play with”. My instincts tell me that she’s doing it to assert her dominance over me, to show me that I’m owned. However, I can’t really think that she’d do it if she knew what it made me feel. I don’t know anymore. I want to believe that she’s cruel, because that’s easy to believe and be done with.

Suddenly there is a massive shadow over me. While I was lost in thought, I completely failed to notice the rumbles of her steps. But she’s not looking at me, she just passed over to find something else in her room. I look at her again. She’s gigantic, enormous by any standards, yet you can tell that she’s kind of small compared to her surroundings. Maybe not as much as I am compared to my toy car, but still. And I can’t but notice how graceful she looks while walking, while leafing through a stack of notes. She’s not a lumbering giant, she’s a careful and petite giant. She walks back to her desk and sits on her chair again. An enormous sigh escapes her lips as she does so, and even I can hear it.

Next to the receipt is a pen. It’s of course extremely long for me, but thankfully it’s thin enough so that I am actually taller than it, as it lays on its side on the floor. It’s not the pen she used to buy me – since past the clear body of the pen, I can see a barrel of pink, glittery ink inside. At this point it’s expected that Hannah is a fan of pink and girly stuff, I guess. I hop on the pen and walk across the thin body until I reach the top, where it’s closed off with a slightly thicker cap. I hop off the pen and head to my next item, which is more personal, more close to Hannah than some random trinket.

It’s a hair band. It’s all scrunched up into almost a ball. I haven’t seen her with tied up hair yet, but I guess sometimes she’s wearing it. I walk close to it and feel the small imperfections and ridges in the pink elastic band. It’s too massive to be used to contain me, but I’ve seen other, bigger tinies, being immobilized by such a band. However, what’s more striking about the band is the slight scent it emanates. While I’ve had my chance to smell Hannah’s feet, I haven’t had really met the rest of her body other than her hands just yet. The band has a softer, sweeter, almost enjoyable smell. I guess that’s what Hanna’s hair smells like. It’s an almost intoxicating scent. Giant men are supposed to like the scent of giant women’s hair, and I am getting hit with a disproportionately huge amount of scent right now. It makes me want to just climb on the hair scrunchie and sleep on it.

But I’d rather walk away than fall into the trap. Next up is something much more massive. It’s a glove. It’s a soft green glove made of wool. I am facing its entrance, where her enormous hand would enter and stretch the space open to fit her fingers and palm. I stare into the dark insides of the glove, but I decide to hop on the surface instead of crawling in. I walk to the middle of the giant glove, and see the five fingers extend past the main body of the fabric. I’ve already been on Hanna’s little hand enough times to instantly recognize that the glove might be a bit too big for her. Those fingers look slightly too long compared to what I know. The price of being little, I guess. I walk down the pinky finger of the glove and sit on the tip. I wonder if she’d ever want to wear me inside her glove. I’d certainly be gently smashed up against everything she touches if she did. And it would probably be less warm and less comfortable than inside her sock. But I wouldn’t mind trying at least once.

I finally make it to the pair of socks that’s on the floor. These are much more massive than the one I rode in yesterday. This style is so long that it looks like it can easily reach above Hannah’s ankles. The socks themselves are black, with red in the toe and heel, a red stripe on the lip of the sock, and they’re patterned with red hearts. Enormous red hearts that are easily bigger than I am. The way the socks are lumped up on the floor, they make a small mound that I could climb, but for now I just walk around them, taking in their sheer magnitude and enormity. There is no scent coming off those, they must be fresh, but I’m sure by the time she’s done using them tonight, they’ll have their fair share of Hannah’s foot odor. I’ll probably have it on me too, come to think about it. I walk towards the toe section of one of the socks. It’s so huge. I can easily get in there and be worn between her toes no problem. I start climbing the sock “hill”. It’s easy for my little hands to find holds between the strands. My feet walk on the fabric and sometimes get tangled up on the strands. The fabric is soft, but I can definitely feel that those are a well-worn and loved pair that has seen a lot of use over time. There are small imperfections here and there in the weave. I finally make it to the top of the hill, and I’m standing on the red floor of one of the cute adorning hearts. Standing on it makes me kind of miss Hannah’s gigantic heartbeat from the past night. I wonder if she’d let me sleep in her shirt pocket again. Maybe if I serve her well enough I can ask for it as a favor.

Speaking of serving Hannah, it’s time I make good on the only order she gave me: to make myself acquainted with her boots that she’ll be wearing me in later on. From my sock vantage point I can see them close by. They are two towering, enormous black leather boots. They have a flat heel on the back, and a very round front that barely lifts off the ground. On the very top, a black leather bow adorns the entrance of the boot. I remind myself that they’re probably children’s boots, but they look classy and inviting, not childish. I’m sure Hannah is happy that little miss styles exist for her size. The boots reach up to what I suppose is a height above ankle but lower than mid-calf. They are barely shorter than they are long. I can see their laces going up from the base of the boot all the way up to the top. I guess there is also a zipper on the side, but I cannot see it from here.

I make my way down from sock hill and walk towards the boots. I find myself by their flat heels. I am still shorter than the thickness of her sole. I walk around the massive footwear, admiring the imposing size of them, looking up at the already towering height, even if it’s just a short bootie!

Time to get in. But how? I walk back around to the other side of the boot where I can see the end of the zipper above the sole of the shoe. All I need to do is jump on the sole, latch myself onto the plastic, and then use the zipper as a ladder of sorts. I’ve done this before. A few unsuccessful jumps later, I am finally holding onto her giant sole and I’m climbing up. However, when I make it up to the zipper, I have another idea. My feet are now standing on the top of the sole, and I can walk the narrow path around the sole of the shoe. I spend a couple of minutes carefully inching towards the front, where the front edge of the sole is slightly rising. This makes it easy for me to get on the leather and right on top of the rounded leather tip of the shoe. I am now standing on the shoe. I hop a few times on it. Right below me, underneath the floor I am standing on, is the enormous cavern where Hannah’s playful toes will soon be squeezing me and rubbing all around me pretty soon.

I look towards the back of the shoe, where now I am facing the crisscrossing laces of the shoe. I could probably squeeze inside one of the holes that the giant black laces emerge from and get inside the shoe by avoiding the climb, but where is the fun in that? I run to the laces, that are surprisingly thinner than my height, but also made from some kind of hard elastic material instead of fabric, like yesterday’s converse shoes. I hold on and start climbing up the leather shoe, using the laces as steps and holding on to them whenever I can. As the ascent turns vertical, I get slowed down significantly, but I don’t give up. A few minutes later, I am finally on the top of her shoe. An untrained human would probably feel dizzy looking down to what is probably more than a hundred feet vertical drop. On one side of where I stand, I can drop back to the front of the shoe, whereas on the other I see the dark pit of the inside of her boot.

I look around me from my vantage point. I’m high enough to be able to finally see past my blanket-made safe perimeter that Hannah set up for me. I can see all the way across the room in any direction. There is Hannah’, sitting on her wooden chair, her socked feet dangling gently off it, unable to reach down. Next to her desk is her bed, towering ever so high. On the other side of the room is another desk and bed. The bed is tidy, but there is no sign of that giant woman yet. I wonder what she’s like. Hannah mentioned her name yesterday, I think, but I can’t remember it. There are a few pairs of shoes underneath the bed, but they’re so far away and it’s so dark that I can’t really tell much, other than that I see a couple of pairs of sneakers, sandals and heels. They look more womanly than girly. I guess the other girl is at least adult-sized. Looking back at Hannah’s bed, I can’t see much underneath her own bed. I guess she’s slightly more tidy. But then again, her massive converse that she wore me on yesterday are under her desk. They look so little and distant from where I stand! There is what looks like a door to a closet further away, but it’s closed. And finally, all the way towards the back, a door to their bathroom on the side, and the door that leads out to the corridor of the dorm room, and into certain death for me, if I ever try escaping.

I turn my attention back to Hannah. I think she’s humming along some tune as she’s working. I can only see her back, but her body seems relaxed. I guess whatever she’s writing isn’t giving her too much trouble. And that means she could possibly be done soon. Right, let’s get back to business then.

I look back down at the dark pit of her boot. There is already a small odor coming out from the shoe. It’s similar to what I experienced yesterday, but not really the same. It’s less potent, for now, but less vinegary and more leathery. Different materials for different shoes. I need to make my way down, and the easiest way to do that would be to jump. I’m small enough so that my terminal velocity is relatively small and such a drop won’t damage me, but it’ll still hurt a bit. I decide against that, and carefully walk around the top of the boot to the side, where I can start climbing down the inside of Hannah’s giant footwear. I give her a thumbs up, even if she’s turned away, and start climbing down.

It’s a relatively fast descent. The inside of the boot has a thick, soft fur, and I have no problem grabbing a hold of it and going down. The light becomes more limited and the smell of leather and foot becomes stronger by every inch. During my descent I stumble upon a large tag that’s sticking out from the fur. It’s the tag that mentions the shoe’s materials and size. I read and see that this boot is a size 2. That’s bigger than what she told me yesterday – that’s what the silver letters that are embroidered on the black cloth tag say. I wonder if it’s just a better fit, given that not all shoes are made out of the same sizing info, or if she just couldn’t fund a size small enough for her. Once I am finally down, I step on a relatively soft insole. I can see that the middle of it is noticeably squished in, from the weight of Hannah’s mighty heel. There are some faded silver letters on the heel, but I’m not here to read. I look around me, and especially down the almost pitch black cavern that her foot will almost fill up. If the shoe is truly bigger than her size, I will want to be worn inside her sock instead of directly inside her shoe. I don’t like it when there is too much open space for me to be potentially thrown around. I walk down the surface of her insole until the toe section, which is still massive to my eyes. The ceiling is still taller than what I can reach, probably double or three times my height at least. It’s then that I notice something on the very front of her boot. Contrasting with the black of the shoe is a white mass that covers the wall. I walk up to it and touch it. It’s soft and made up of threads that are too tiny even for me to individually discern. It’s a ball of cotton. I guess I have my answer. The shoe is slightly too big for Hannah, and she’s fixed that by adding some cotton in the front so that her toes will have something to push against. The cotton is indeed pushed in, as if her giant toes have squished it between them and the toe end of the shoe multiple times in the past. I can hardly see them due to the lack of light, but as I walk around, I can feel the indentations her enormous toes have made on the sole of the shoe. The smell down here is the strongest, but still not as strong as what I’m sure it will be when she eventually puts her shoe on.

My exploring is suddenly interrupted, as the whole cavernous, gigantic little shoe is shaken. I lose my balance and get thrown around before I desperately hold onto the cotton at the end of the shoe. Hannah must’ve picked up the boot. Time’s up.