The first step seemed to go rather well, maybe because the woman was only barely getting into her stride. Her sole flattened only barely around him, now that he wasn’t buried so deep under it. He’d tucked himself neatly within the warm little pocket, protected from the elements and dangers by the very foot he thought would end him. 

Woosh…thud.

He was given a first person perspective of the world flying by, watching from within his safe little alcove. Being beneath the foot meant that he was not subjected to the wrath of the wind, nor did he have to do much to keep his position, though he slipped his fingers into  a bit of stitching for his own peace of mind. The liftoff of Amelia’s first foot step with passenger aboard had gone without a hitch. Andrew was rather proud of himself for facing his fear, and had been awarded with safety as a result. An earth-flattening impact accompanied the conclusion of the first step, the wrinkled sole settling around him again, though not to as dangerous of a degree as before.

This rhythm repeated itself beautifully with each step. The foot would flex in preparation for a step, before lifting off into the air, covering dozens of miles with each stride, before settling back to the ground would power thud. He imagined what this process would have been like from  the floor. Amelia’s feet would have been much less forgiving, her step destroying anything in its path, displaced air acting as a harbinger to anything nearby to be wary, there was no survival beneath that tread. Unless, of course, you been adopted by the safety of the arch, protected unwittingly by the very sole would otherwise see your ruin.

It didn’t hurt that he’d always appreciated Amelia’s gentle nature. She commanded respect in such a way that didn’t come off as overbearing or entitled. She was helpful and kind, objective, but fair.  If she hadn’t declared an open penchant for women over men, he would have thought to pursue her in the absence of Kate.

Eventually Andrew found a rhythm to Amelia’s steps, and settled into it. His shoulder throbbed still, but being able to rest and avoid putting any pressure on it meant not having to worry about making the injury worse. Eventually he would get back to normal and put all of this behind him.

There were only a few unexpected situations that caused him any stress. Once or twice, the woman would be reaching for something just beyond her fingertips, and she would lean up on her toes to grab it, causing the whole sandal to tilt dramatically forward. When this happened, Andrew had to grip the sole of the sandal and hold tight to avoid tumbling underneath the ball of her foot, which would result in a much less comfortable situation, or more likely, death. He was able to maneuver his way back into his perfect position, and continue his ride.

What would Amelia have thought, had she known of the tiny creature tucked underneath her sole, relying on the arch of her foot for protection. Would she have let him stay, content to have a passenger enjoying the ride? Would she have suggested that her toes would have been more secure? He considered all of these things far longer than he might have, perfectly content to stay here as the clueless brunette carried him in her sandal.

Eventually, however, Amelia’s footsteps came to an end. A final powerful thud indicated that she had finished moving, and across from him, the accompanying sandaled foot had come to rest in place as well, mirroring the perspective he had from Amelia’s other foot. Elegantly tied with a tassel at the ankle, he’d grown to appreciate this perspective. Just a lowly speck, cowering at the indomitable feet of the giantess. He had gained a certain reverence for Amelia’s gentle feet now...maybe even a preference.

Thoughts aside for now, Amelia’s finger descended into his view, grasping at the tassel and string holding the sandal in place on her heel. From his viewpoint at her other foot, the goddess’ fingers tugged at the strap until it slipped free from her ankle, tumbling to the ground loosely. It seemed like she was going to remove her sandals, finally, and Andrew would be left stranded on the empty surface. Having had a mental break from the torture Rachel had put him through, he stood, watching as Amelia’s finger swung over to the sandal he occupied and began to untie the straps.as thick and tall as redwood trees, the strings of Amelia’s sandal tumbled from above, one of them even bouncing off the insole of the sandal, nearly colliding with the nearby stowaway. 

He braced for impact, waiting for the massive, bare foot to slip out of the sandal. Instead, Amelia’s fingers began to descend even lower, even past her ankles, down toward her insoles. Andrew winced, unsure of what was happening...not until the finger began to curl inward and moved forward, the simple, natural tips of her fingernail swooping in. She was scratching her foot, likely from the tiny irritation of a shrunken man playing ‘survivor’ underneath her sole. 

Amelia’s index finger flew into his world, unimpeded by anything less than an act of the goddess herself. The fingernail slipped effortlessly into position, sliding against the insole of her sandal, careening toward him and gliding across the surface of the shoe. Andrew attempted to scramble away from the enormous fingernail, but inevitably was scooped into the underside of marauding appendage. He tumbled several feet along the length of what would otherwise be considered a shorter fingernail, until he settled against the flesh of the finger itself. Dizzy and tired of being flung about, he clung tight to the woman’s finger as it, along with two other fingers, scratched at the exposed sole of her foot.

Watching from here was rather disconcerting, the same flesh he had curled up under for protection was being abused by the fingers. Unnoticeable amounts of dirt and skin gathered along the fingernail as the goddess scratched her foot, sending the deluge of underfoot refuse tumbling toward Andrew, who was helpless to do much other than prepare for the onslaught.

But Amelia’s temporary foot scratching session lasted only a few quick, dizzying seconds, and despite his worries, only trace amounts of what had gathered beneath her foot trickled down to him. He sighed in relief, pushing away several softball sized flakes of skin and dirt collected with him under her fingernail. No sooner had he done this, was he holding tight to the finger again, clinging desperately to the skin as he was carried away from the foot at long last, up toward salvation. He was saved, clinging to the fingers of the woman who would be his savior after so long at her feet. He turned his gaze, ready to embrace Amelia’s concerned face.

Instead of seeing the face of a veritable angel, however, he saw a vast, brown ocean contained within a teacup. Simultaneously, he felt his grip shifting, and before he could truly grasp again, Andrew was free falling.

“Amelia…!” The tiny jock screamed, watching Amelia’s finger continue forward to grasp the lip of the cup he was careening toward. Really it wasn’t more than an inch, but an inch for the shrunken man might as well have been a mile. He felt betrayed, stabbed through the heart, after all of his dedication, Amelia tossed him aside like so much dirt. He was broken hearted, he was terrified of what was to come next. Moreover...he was wet.