You saw stars as a titanic sneaker slammed into you. If it weren't for the softness of its leather exterior, your body would've been dashed into a tiny splotch of red. You were launched, careening through the air like a fly without wings. Wind whistled in your ears as hurtled in a slightly concussed daze.
As you tumbled head over heels, a bizarre landing spot began to fill your vision. A huge, white lake. You were quickly overwhelmed by a creamy aroma. Too disoriented to put together where you were headed, you plummeted half-conscious toward the body of liquid.
Plop!
You landed softly in the swamp. It was just thick enough to keep you above the surface, your lower half submerged in the hot sludge. You looked up at walls looming in the distance, easily containing whatever you’d tumbled into. Higher still was the underside of a chin and nose you recognized. Your waiter? The ceiling blurred above his head as he carried the delicious-smelling sea you were in.
You paled with the realization of where you were. A soup. More specifically, a soup that was about to be served. Small islands of chicken and dumplings floated nearby, all dwarfing your quarter inch frame. The broth was too heavy to swim to them. Shreds of spinach were scattered like seaweed. Like you, they didn't even break the surface tension of the aromatic muck. Suddenly, everything pitched as the waiter stopped.
“Alright, who had the Chicken Gnocchi?” He asked over a multitude of chattering voices.
“That's mine, thanks.” A booming, distinctly female voice said eagerly.
At this, point you were struggling desperately. The device's battery was drained. You were hopelessly tiny and covered in soup. Everything shifted as the waiter lifted the bowl off what you assumed to be a much larger platter. Your stomach dropped as he lowered it rapidly until it landed with a thunderous “Clink!” on the table. As he began passing out the other dishes, you peered skyward to see whose dinner you were stranded in.
“God, I’m starving.” The enormous girl rumbled. She looked to be in her early 20’s. Her lidded, blue eyes stared down hungrily. They contrasted quite nicely with dark brown hair and lightly tanned skin. Minimal contouring enhanced what was an already pretty, albeit obscenely humongous, face. Red lipstick drew your gaze to her mouth. The plump lips parted, allowing a glistening tongue to push out. It left them glossed with saliva as it swept over quickly. The spaghetti straps of her white dress left her shoulders mostly uncovered. Her neckline wasn't any more modest. It swept far below her collarbones, displaying a smooth expanse of sunkissed flesh.
Her arm swung overhead, prepped with a gleaming spoon. You waved and shouted at the top of your lungs from the mire of her meal. It was pointless. You might as well have been a stray hunk of chicken. The stainless-steel tower she held descended toward your spot in the bowl, ready to collect a pool's worth of soup.
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.17 seconds at 6:44am on Jan 09, 2025 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
