Quarter of an inch tall, you sit in the palm of Amber's hand and gaze up the length of her arm to her huge, amazed face. She blinks without speaking for a few moments before looking to either side, as if she expects a prankster to jump out and laugh at her.
Then she focuses her attention entirely upon you, and you quail before the unfettered attention of this giant. It was bad enough when you were inside the car, seen as an object, but now she rolls her eyes over you greedily, absent-mindedly biting at her bottom lip. WIth the toys, she was reliving her childhood, a more carefree time, but now that she has possession of a tiny human, she is a grown woman, all business.
"No time for this now," she whispers, even those words battering down at you like a storm, "I've got to get back to work."
Of course! She had been wearing a business suit when she met up with Wendy, and must have just been popping off her lunch break to go shopping for presents for Ken's birthday. She turns her great face from you, looking up and beyond, before the towering fingers of her hand curl around you once more.
Now, deprived of the protection of the toy car, you are surrounded on all sides by the oily surface of the woman's skin, enclosed in darkness and bombarded by the heat she radiates. Mercifully, she keeps the grip loose so as not to burst you like a grape, but still you are living in an area with barely enough space to move a hand of youre own, breathing in your own stale air.
In addition to all this, the woman is in motion while she holds you prisoner, her hand swinging back and forth and rising with each step. As you are not held tight, there is enough give in her hand to throw you back and forth, rubbing you violently against the thick ridges of her finger skin.
The nightmare does end, but when Amber opens her hand you are blinded by the light the shines upon you, and can do little but gasp in mouthfuls of fresher air as your skin welcomes the relief from the pressure. The world shakes, and by the time your sight returns you see that Amber has seated herself, placing her hand upon a desktop. Seems she expects you to step off, but in your daze you're clearly slower than she would want.
"For crying out loud," she mutters, and then you look across to see her head descending, lips puckering. A single puff of breath gusts from her lips like a hurricane, casting you effortlessly from her palm to slide across the surface of her desk.
With you evicted, the woman pumps a blob of hand gel into her palm, which she then rubs between both her hands with such crushing strength that you are awed and terrified all over again. She continues to work them even as she proceeds to address you, pulling you between watching those destructive mits and that god-like face.
"Time is money, and I can't really put my PA off for much longer with this afternoon's meeting schedule. Make this brief: who are you, and what were you doing in that toy car?"
Get your story straight!
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