There was a fresh breeze hitting my face. I was lying in wet grass, and the light was shining down, the cool air sending shivers down my spine.

It was beautiful. I felt like I was in heaven. I stood up to the squish of the grass below me, I was surrounded by acres of short grass. It was party cloudy and the lighting felt distinctly whiter than a normal sunny day.

I heard the crunching of grass from ahead of me and the whinnying of an animal. Directly in front of me there was a heard of horses, large, beautiful creatures, tightly compacted together. Fearsome to behold, but majestic. Shivering from the breeze, I found myself walking closer, as if in a daze; as I neared them I could feel the heat from the herd and smell their scent as I got closer. At first I thought I smelled dung. But the smell turned to sharp vinegar, salt, and sweat...

I smelled cheese and recoiled in horror, turned and found myself running into a dark black cavern.

I slammed my head into the rough roof and fell into the wet muck of the cavern floor.

I finally comprehended where I was. I'm in Dianne's shoe. I crossed my arms over myself, shaking from the cold, afraid to move for what I'd see behind me. I heard a loud wet noise.

SCHLRP

The noise sent shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes, hoping this was the hallucination, praying to god that the real world was that field, that I must have fallen asleep on a farm somewhere and that this reality was the nightmare.

And then I burst into sobs. I knew this was the real world – the hallucination of the field was my brief recess from the nightmare of being tiny.

I stood up and turned around.

SCHLRP

Dianne was pressing her toes and the ball of her foot into the heel of her wet pump – creating a disgusting noise with an ooze of cold sweat from her insole. I could see a layer of sweat around the bottom of her toes. Almost nothing to her, but a few inches to me.

I just stared at them, crossing my arms from the cold, too afraid to move forward. But I could feel the heat radiating off them, and I desperately wanted to embrace them, even though I was equally as terrified. Her big, second, and third toes looked relatively clean from where I was at. I could see the ball of her foot partially, and although it had been pressed into her insole and new muck had accumulated along the bottom of it, it was still cleaner than it had been been when I had been in her shoe earlier.

But along her fourth toe and the pinky, things were different. I could see a layer of black gray muck coating the surfaces – there was a visible film from the top to the bottom. Between her toes there was clumped together jam that had a black/gray look to it, and I could see a similar material wedged between her nails.

Her foot, which was partially out of the shoe, had her toes resting just on the inside of it, so that her toes were below the roof of her leather pump. Light poured in from around her foot, illuminating even the dark area of the tip, and I could see the thick layer of gunk that I had collected in the tip of her shoe, black and gray with harder chunks of dead skin standing out like gold in a mineshaft. It had taken up quite a bit of space their, and I wouldn't have been able to use that location to hide myself anymore from Dianne's toes.

I looked at my hands, and up my arms to my chest – and I was disgusting. I was coated in a layer of black grime – it almost looked like I had rolled around in the mud. I was filthy, most of my skin was covered.

SCHLRP

This time, Dianne's toes pitched back up higher then before, striking the roof of her shoe. The world around me went topsy turvy, the floor pitched downward sharply, and I found myself bouncing face first into the now downward slope of her insole, the sweat splashing into my face and blinding me with it's salty burn.

When I opened my eyes, my face was pressed against the ball of her foot between her pinky and fourth toe, I could feel the wet gunk and the hard layer of calloused skin below it.

I didn't hesitate – I didn't think at all. The terror overwhelmed to the point where I didn't even feel afraid – it controlled me like a puppet on strings. I started licking.

My body was on autopilot. The warmth from Dianne's toes was comforting to me and I licked in service to my toe mistress. I oddly didn't feel afraid, and the fresh air and light made me feel like I was in heaven. I'm not sure if it was exhaustion or the overwhelming fear, but I felt nothing in particular other than the breeze and an overwhelming gratitude towards my goddesses for the air and warmth, and for a chance to show my devotion to the goddesses who I owed everything to.

From my back I lapped eagerly at the ball of Dianne's calloused foot. I first licked up the wet muck, a combination of sweaty dead skin and dirty black leather that had accumulated on the bottom of her foot. It filled my mouth and I coughed out what I didn't swallow into a pile next to me. Next I would reach a harder layer of caked on black material. For this, I used my teeth, slowly scraping and nibbling away at it whilst using my tongue to try to wet and loosen it, occasionally sucking with my lips to pull it off; my lips, tongue, and teeth each uniquely feeling the grooves in Diannes skin. At times I would suck too hard and find gunk in my mouth, either coughing it out or chewing it up to swallow, before continuing.

This went on for a long time. Dianne occasionally would press me into the wet insole of her pump, shoving my face deep into the hard, rough callouses while her sweat would ooze up around me from the insole, forcing the air from my lungs. As my mistress released me, I would gasp, more eagerly pressing myself into the folds on the ball of her foot, operating under the assumption that I hadn't been working hard enough.

I heard the stewardess next to Dianne – Sarah, speak to her.

“Looks like most of the passengers are asleep now, so unless we see the call sign, we're good for a few hours or so before we should start preparing breakfast.” Sara paused and I could hear the seats shift above me, the only other sounds was the loud whir of the airplane and the noises being made as I sucked at the bottom of Dianne's foot.

I could only see Dianne's foot and the leather pump to my sides and below me.

“What are you watching?” Sarah asked.

On my right, Dianne's toes lifted for a second, but the ball of her foot remained partially planted on me. They slowly went up and slowly came back down, and I could see the old and new detritus on her fourth and pinky toe respectively – they looked dirtier than the ball I was under now, and I instinctively attempted to get closer to them, but I was stuck, partially sunken into her mud-like insole, her sweat a few inches up the sides of my body.

Dianne spoke from above me, her voice vibrating through me from the ball of her foot. “It's some Bollywood movie called 'Trapped'” She lifted the ball of her foot off me, and I rolled to my right, specifically elevating myself to avoid the pile of muck that had accumulated next to me from my coughing. Her pinky and fourth toe were elevated above me, her toes pulled back into the air.

I stood up, and moved forward, from where I was I could place my face under the joint between either her pinky or fourth toe. The skin here was hard to see, but from what I could tell through the grime it appeared relatively soft.

I had a lot of work to do, and I was a good toe cleaner. I buried my face into the muck, and worked at it with my fatigued mouth and tongue. The wet gunk was the closest, it tasted of leather,vinegar, and moldy cheese, each bite made me want to gag but I couldn't throw up, even though I felt nauseous.

Dianne continued from above. “It's about a guy who gets trapped in his apartment in a high rise”

I was working on a thick piece of dirt that was wedged in a fold of flesh under her toe. I tried pulling it off with my hands but it wouldn't budge, and licking the dried cheesey thing didn't help either. I placed my mouth around it and bit into it with a nasty crunch – hard chunks of dried dirt was mixed with sopping wet bits of material that stuck between my teeth, and the whole thing felt stuck in my mouth. I tried to cough it out but it was hard and viscous, requiring more force than I can muster.

My face was wedged into her toe skin and I breathed deeply though my nose, inhaling the fresh scent of her toes as they were no longer trapped in the shoe. It's no longer sultry, but the smell of her feet seems stronger in contrast with the fresh air.

Suddenly and before I can react the toe above me slams down, striking my head with a devastating blow, my ears ringing. When I regain focus I find my nose completely smothered by the grimey bottom of her fourth toe, my body partially immersed in the pile of toe muck as the sweat oozes back up around me, my mouth packed full of foot filth. I was suffocating.

“Yea, it's fascinating.” Dianne continued. “The guy was supposed to marry a girl, and even though he has friend and family, nobody notices that he's missing. In fact, people move on with their lives and entirely forget about him.”

I was panicking, and in my desperate attempt to breathe I began to chew. The toe jam was nasty, every bite crunched and squished in my mouth, tasting like hardened leather and spoiled cheese, liquid vingear and sweat oozing into the back of my throat. I was despairingly trying to breathe through each and every bite as Dianne's toes sunk me further and further into her insole, the pressure on my chest and face making it more and more difficult to expand my lungs. She continued to talk from above.

“Can you imagine being so desperately trying to survive, and nobody noticing you're even missing? Not one person caring?” Dianne sounded sad.

I was choking on her filth. And she continued to apply an ever increasing amount of pressure, her sweat now halfway up the side of my body as I sunk deeper into her sole.

Sarah spoke. “Does it count if it's man trapped in your shoe?” she giggled. “Of course not – it's not real person anyway. It be like wondering how a bug felt before you stepped on it.”

The pressure from the toes lifted off of me for a second and stars appeared in my eyes as I breathed deeply through my nose from under Dianne's toes, still gagging on the filth in my mouth. Ironically, Sarah saved me. Her off hand comment must have reminded Dianne about me – she either forgot or didn't notice where I was.

As I began to regain oxygen in my lungs something terrible occurred to me. Dianne, whether intentionally or not, had broken me. Tracy had worked hard to break that habits that Jen's sadism had inflicted on me, to the point where I had remembered myself as a human being again. Now, Dianne's treatment of me had removed all that therapy in only a few hours of torture – the old habits returned like water in a dry river bed and the current reappeared. And that was the last thought of my own humanity I had for a while.

I was a living pedegg. I was chewing up the remaining bits of muck in my mouth, thankful that my toe goddesses had decided to spare me for the honor of continuing to clean them. I coughed up what I could and pealed the large chunks of toe jam that had stuck to me back into the pile, which was beginning to look like a small garbage bags worth of material.

“It's good to have these shoes off for a minute” Dianne said. “These new pumps are killing me. I'll have to make sure not to wear these for flights again. I'd love to have someone massage my arch right now”

As Dianne said this foot slid backwards and up, and she rested the ball of her foot on the top of her shoe, adding pressure so that roof so that her foot fell down towards me, cutting off much of the light, and creating about five feet of space from where I was standing near the tongue of her shoe. The air was partially cut off, not to the point like I was stuffed in the shoe, but also not getting the noticeable breeze of fresh air. I thanked my goddess for the increased warmth and set about to the task I knew my foot mistress wanted. While standing in the mud like insole, I looked up to her arch right below the ball of her foot, and I could see a layer of black grime, interspersed with larger chunks of rolled up jam and pieces of dirt. I picked up the accumulated muck I had already collected, rolled it into a more manageable ball to carry, and dragged it along with me.

I took a deep breath of warm damp foot air, and slightly bending at the knees set about to my duty. The folds in the arch of her foot looked like much like a slightly ruffled blanket – her skin under the grime clearly a lighter shade, and soft. I picked my face up into a crease in the her sole and breathing in only the leather of the pump and sultry smell of her foot, I stuck out my tongue. The otherworldly ceiling twitched with the touch of my tongue, and through the acrid taste of the grime and sweat I could feel her living roof pulsating through my mouth and teeth. I didn't lift my tongue off of her sole – the wet material from the gunk continuing to pour fresh sweat into my mouth slightly gagging me, and I coughed up what I could into an ever increasing pile. The position I had started at was near the middle of her sole – the width I would have to cover was tremendous, so I decided it would be best to try to use my whole mouth to grab as much as possible. I opened up my mouth and scraped my upper and lower teeth across her sole, and I needed to go about 8 yards just to reach her heel, which formed a narrowing gap as it rested on the insole of the shoe, which was sloped slightly upward from because of the pumps heel.

I dragged my mouth with my tongue extended along the divine roof I served, the warm soft leather tasting of salt, vinegar, and cheese. I could feel my tongue picking up wet globs of muck, along with the occasional hard chunk of dirt or dried skin. It would fill my mouth I'd cough it into the pile of filth I was carrying along. I could feel the folds of her skin along my tongue and and face, and the smell got more intense as the gap tightened. I found myself stooping lower until I was on my hands and knees, head tilted upwards, continuing to lick. My mouth was sore but I no longer felt anything but to fulfill my life's purpose. I was just a pedegg.

As the gap narrowed and I approached the heel, the pulse coming from Dianne's sole was getting more intense. I lied down in the thin layer of sweat on the muddy sole, and as I squeezed my way forward into the gap, all the while licking her flesh, I could see ceiling squirming above me, the crease and folds in her sole creating what looked like ripples and waves, before being pulled back into the arch. I coughed and gagged on the acrid taste of her sole, and the dried and wet chunks of flesh that tasted of moldy cheese. As I squeezed my way forward, I eventually could go no further. If Dianne lowered her foot at all I would have become paste along with the rest of the filth in her pump.

My goddess in her infinite mercy decided to spare me. To prove my devotion to her, I slid over to my left, where her sole hadn't yet been cleaned, and began to lick, planning on my return trip back up to the ball of her foot. Her sole extended seemingly 8 or so yards in back to it, and the width perhaps around 5 yards wide. I could only clean a few inches at time. This was going to take many, many trips.

Not even halfway into the flight, Dianne and the other stewardesses had a few hours respite as most of the passengers slept or enjoyed their movies. She was still breaking in her new pumps, and she could tell that they didn't breathe as well as her normal shoes – she'd have to make a note of it for the next time she smuggled a tiny. Otherwise, the flight was proceeding smoothly as usual. She took a deep breathe of the recycled plane air and continued to watch the movie on the back of the seat in front of her.

She had her right foot slightly removed from her shoe, her toes still dipping into the shoe, right under the tongue of the pump. She curled up her foot and enjoyed the feeling of fresh air from the plane pass between her toes.

The movie continued to play. The thought of being trapped and forgotten about, by even those who care about you, was a gripping concept to her. How could people be so callous? On top of the misery that near starvation and dehydration, you were also confronted with the most morbid elements of human nature – the grand indifference of your life to others – how you could disappear and not even be noticed.

The thought struck a cord, and Dianne briefly shook her shoe with her toes, tossing it back and forth and removing her toes from the pump in the process, before resting her toes on top of the tongue of her pump and slamming her heel into the insole. The character in the movie was attempting to saw through the door with a butter knife, a largely futile gesture but one made in desperation.

A slight tickle from underfoot reminded her that Mark was still below her. She greatly appreciated him helping her on the flight, as this wasn't the easiest thing for her either, working the long 16 hours. Dianne figured that Mark hadn't been cleaning for all that long yet and should probably be capable to work for a few more hours before she could stow him in her bag as she continued her service for the last few hours of flight time. She looked down at her foot from above, most of her toes looking clean, but the fourth and pinky toe appeared to be slightly dirty from the top. She'd have to get Mark to look at them after he was done under her arch. He was getting closer to her heel.

She thought that Mark was doing well. Her new pump seemed to provide only slightly worse conditions but didn't appear to have affected her foot particularly, other than to make it slightly sorer, and perhaps a tad more hot. She presumed Mark was probably quite comfortable, and the fact that he was kissing her sole made her think he was enjoying himself. She loved the sensation, but she also thought it was little awkward in concept – but she wouldn't mention it if he didn't.

The tickling sensation of the tiny in her shoe started to reverse in direction, and she could feel the little man moving from her heel back up to the ball of her foot. She smiled from above, happy that the tiny man was enjoying himself, allowing her to relax for a bit a focus on the movie. She bobbed her foot up and down, pressing slightly into the top of the pump with her toes.

The movie engrossed her and her conscious mind no longer thought about her foot, or the tiny man trapped below it, and it was now operating on it's own. In an attempt to get more comfortable she adjusted herself in the seat, uncrossing her legs and pushing her feet down, sliding her pump further in front of her. The roof of the pump was collapsed under he toes, and she could feel bottom of her sole making contact with the insole of her shoe. The character in the movie, was banging on the windows of his apartment, attempting to make contact with anybody in a neighboring building, desperately trying to get attention.

Dianne found it heart wrenching, and she crossed her left leg over her right, the extra weight pushing her foot down onto her pump. Her toes on the roof of the collapsed pump flexed up and down, the breeze between her toes pleasant. She took a sip of some warm coffee, which was nice on the cold plane.

After shaking her foot, which slammed me into the walls of her shoe and left me in a daze on her insole, Dianne had mercilessly collapsed her foot onto me. I was now trapped under her arch, and the pressure from her foot was slowly sinking me into her muddy insole, I could feel her sweat oozing from the bed of the shoe, and my face was partially submerged, much of my mouth under the sweat that was slowly materializing from within the shoe. I couldn't see anything but the skin of her arch, which appeared incredibly dark from the lack of light. Her foot pulse could be felt as a repeating throb, vibrating through my whole body. The skin here was soft and warm, but the conditions were like that of swamp – the intense humidity and the smell leather, vinegar, and old cheese filling every orifice of me. I couldn't move at all – I was completely pinned to the sole, all my my limbs completely enveloped by the soft flesh on her arch.

I guess I should have considered myself lucky. If it wasn't for Dianne's high arch, I would have been completely flattened. Instead, I felt like was in a vice grip – the pressure made it incredibly difficult to breathe, the heat and sweat making everything taste of salt, and smell of cheese. I gasped desperately and prayed that my goddess might spare me. She seemed to either enjoy my futility, or took no notice. I could hear her talking with the other stewardesses above me.

Dianne watched the movie for a good 20 minutes and continued to contemplate how hopeless the character must have felt, and wondered how many people were in a situation similar to this day. She hadn't felt Mark for a time, she began to think he was starting to slack off, not taking up his fair end of the bargain. Considering that he was getting a free trip, assisting her in the process shouldn't have been too difficult. It wasn't exactly hard labor. She thought Mark should find the task easy, and it's not like he'd have much else to do anyway – otherwise he'd be bored. She was really doing him a favor. She uncrossed her legs and and lifted her foot partially from her shoe, picking her heel up and keeping her toes resting on roof of the pump.

Looking down, she saw that the bottom of her foot looked partially clean along her arch. Mark had been working a bit slower than she would have expected, but she appreciated him helping her nonetheless. From up here, her foot didn't appear especially dirty otherwise, she could only see a few larger specs of dirt. Dianne adjusted her green eyes further down, and looked at the insole of her pump. At first, she didn't see anything particular, just the black insole of the leather shoe, which looked relatively clean from her perspective. An otherwise normal looking shoe. She found it amusing that it was from here that she could so easily flaunt the law – she was happy with herself that she was providing such a morally good service.

As she continued scanning the insole of her pump, she saw a tiny bit of movement coming from just below the arch of her foot. It was Mark. He had been lying on his back, and appeared to be groggy.

Dianne frowned. Was Mark taking a nap? He had plenty of time for that later. This irritated her. She was risking her career for him, the least he could do was spend the time helping her in return.

The tiny man looked up at her from under foot, appearing disheveled. At least he would be well rested, Dianne thought, and fully energized now to help clean. He hadn't been completely slacking though, as she could see a tiny ball of dirt under her heel. He appeared to be slightly dirty.

Dianne decided at this point that it would probably be for the best if she went to the bathroom to communicate with him. There must have been enough junk up in the tip of the shoe that she would need Mark to remove it anyway, so it would be a good time to clean it up.

Dianne looked down at the tiny, who appeared far smaller then even her middle toe. From up here, breathing in the recycled air of the plane, Mark appeared lucky. He had room to move and to stand and walk, and didn't have any job to do. She made eye contact with him, and then gestured towards the accumulated muck Mark had gathered on the sole. She wanted him to take it back to the tip, so she could then head to the bathroom without spreading it around the shoe.

I stared up at the mountain of woman who gazed down at me. She looked slightly irritated. Her icy eyes froze me in terror. Her eyes darted away from me, she appeared to gesture towards something in her shoe, but I didn't understand. This went on a few times, and Dianne's foot started to bob and down above, the double decker bus sized thing going higher and lower with seemingly unnatural changes in direction, bits of dirt falling down on him above appeared to make the sky raining soot around me. The walls of her pump rose above me, and I was completely at Dianne's mercy, only recently being released from underneath her foot, the past 20 or so minutes perpetually being suffocated in the artificial foot sauna.

I was so exhausted and confused, I looked right at Dianne. I could only hear the squish of my feet on the insole, the leather of her shoe flexing making a distinctive noise, and the loud whir of the airplane.

In fear, I started to yell. “WHAT DO -”

Dianne's big toe moved with lightning speed, the soft tip hit me like the end of a log on a pendulum, stars appeared in my vision and I felt like I was suddenly drunk (a sign of a concussion). I found myself on my back on the wet insole.

Everything darkened. Dianne's big toe was above me, the appearance of it reminded me of a lion lurking over an injured animal, just biding it's time before it makes its' final move. I struggled uselessly as I tried to crawl away from my back, I could no longer see anything but her toes and dirty sole, the walls of the pump created a cage around me. In my confused state I moved back towards the tip, and Dianne's toes moved directly above me.

I started to scream. As soon as I did, Dianne's toes pounced onto me, pushing me deep into her insole, suddenly drowning me in cold sweat that oozed from the muddy ground. The toes then lifted, the acrid taste of the sweat burning my eyes and mouth, I took one gasping breath as Dianne's long toes wrapped around me, I was wedged into the gap between the ball of her foot and her toes. The middle toes acted as a cocoon around me. I wanted to cry but her toes squeezed me, forcing all the air from my lungs, locking my arms at my side and forcing my legs together. I couldn't see anything but the bottom of one her toes, I could tell from how clean it was it was that it was one I had been eating from earlier.

I couldn't do anything and my vision began to fade. It felt like everything was getting hotter around me.

With as splash I was back on the insole, a thin layer of cold sweat emerging from it. I gasped for air and found myself shivering again from fear and the cold. Dianne's toes lurked above me. I was too terrified to make a noise now, Dianne had completely broken me at this point, I no longer understood who I was or where I was going, all I wanted was mercy from her toes.

I began to crawl away again, back towards the tip of her shoe. I looked up for a second to see Dianne's toes wiggling above me, almost like they were gloating. For a moment I could see through the gap of Dianne's toes, her face billboard like face peering down at me from the sky, the light around her head drowning much of her face in the contrast. Like I was staring from a sewer drain up the side of skyscraper. Dianne's didn't have an expression on her face – she seemed almost completely disinterested. This lack of any appearance of emotion terrified me almost as much as if she had been smiling.

I didn't make it very far. Dianne's toes quickly moved in front of me, slamming down with a splash and preventing my movement further into her shoe. The rest of her foot was elevated above me, her dirty sole creased with folds in her tan skin. Her toes slowly started to move backwards, the ball of her foot was picked up slightly so I could see underneath her toes. I had nowhere to go. I was to be Dianne's toe toy.

Dianne's toes dragged along the floor, it sounded a bit like wet leather rubbing together. They were suddenly upon me, warm and wet, smelling a bit of cheese. Her foot continued to move backwards, and I found myself rolling along the sole of her shoe, her toes dragging me along without any remorse, battering me roughly as I helplessly was slammed between her toes and the sole. My head ached and I became increasingly dizzy, the warm skin from under her toes providing stark contrast to the cold wet sole.

I could hardly breathe and found myself coughing from the sweat and dirt as my face was slammed into the insole. She must have dragged me for 10 or so yards like this, and eventually it came to a stop.

Her toes still rested on top of me giving me enough room to breathe but not much else. I opened my eyes and I saw the big pile of goop I had been collecting from licking Dianne's arch. The toes lifted off me and slammed down on the other side of the goop, Dianne's big toe then picked up and slammed down a few times, like she was tapping her fingers impatiently. The whole shoe was shaking from her small movements.

I looked up now at Dianne, and could see her tan skin ascending up like a tower before seeing her knee disappear into her skirt. Dianne was staring down at me, gesturing with her eyes.

She wants me to clean this up, I realized. Afraid, I stood up, instinctively stooping low and keeping my eyes on the toes in front of me, scared that Dianne would send her toe hurtling towards my head again. As I began to pick up this ball of goop, I saw blood on my arm. I was bleeding, but I wasn't entirely sure from where, my whole body hurt and my head was killing me.

As I held the pile of toe filth between my arms, Dianne's toes gestured towards the tip. I didn't need any more direction, and I bore the ball of muck into the leathery tunnel. Dianne's foot lurked behind me, moving as quickly as I did, and as I entered under the pump Dianne's toes started to cut off the light, her foot continuing to move deeper into the shoe.

It was becoming darker and darker, the conditions of the shoe becoming more stuffy and humid. As I reached the tip I got on my knees, only to feel the heat from Dianne's toes from behind me. My heart sank in my stomach and I was filled with dread. I pushed the muck into the tip as far as I could, I had accumulated so much detritus here that there was no longer any room for to put myself.

Turning around, Dianne's big toe inched closer. There was nowhere for me to go, and before I could react Dianne's big toe slammed into me; I fell backwards in the tip of the shoe, the accumulated goop oozing around me, I was slightly sunk into it. Her big toe showed me no mercy and moved forward, forcing the air from my lungs and pushing me further into the filth. I could feel it cover my ears and nearing the front of my face, my legs, and chest and crotch pushed further in below my head, completely immersing me the lower part of my body, her toe causing me to be bent awkwardly forward. I wanted to scream but I could hardly breathe, dark liquid from the gunk was oozing over me.

I was completely locked in the muck, my face pressed into Dianne's big toe. As the jam got near my eyes, Dianne's big toe stopped pushing me forward, finally reaching it's resting position. I felt like I was Han Solo locked in carbonite.

I heard Dianne's voice from outside the shoe. “I'm going to head to the bathroom for a bit.”

“Sounds good” said Sarah.

I sobbed quietly from Dianne's shoe. Nobody cared.