The discarded sock soars over your head. At your size, the shear motion of such a small scrap of cloth stirs the air, and your tenuous footing is quickly lost. As the sock impacts the pile, you lose your place completely and tumble, head over heels, ricocheting down the pile over skirts and shirts and shorts to the hardwood floor below.
"Ughh," you moan, rubbing your head as you come to a skidding stop. Even with your spinning vision, something feels off about where you landed. The air is thicker, warmer, filled with a presence you can't place. Your heart skips as you realize the only thing that it could be. Rubbing your eyes clear, you turn and peer up. Towering above, yards and yards away for you but likely mere centimeters for him, was the giant's foot. His left arch, pink and soft and horrifyingly inviting, loomed ahead, an incomprehensible cave of flesh that looked less like a body part and more like a landscape. You're immobilized, struck dead in your tracks by competing fear and arousal. You want nothing more than to run up and press yourself fully into this giant's flesh, to present yourself as an offering of nothing into the slight sheen of sweat on his soft pink sole, but at the same time every animal instinct left in your brain screams out for you to run, to escape, to find shelter where you won't be wiped out by the unknowing god's smallest whim.
You weren't given a choice, not really, not now. Clearly frustrated at his dormmates and their inability to handle laundry, the man moved to confront them. His foot lifted and swung away with horrific speed and power. You, closer to a mote of dust than a man, couldn't comprehend this, not in any appreciable way, but you certainly couldn't ignore the consequences either. To him, a footstep is small and casual. To you, it stirred forth a hurricane. The displaced air rushed forward and you were brought along with, launched back into the air towards the foot as he walked. Each of his steps continued this process, turbulently churning the atmosphere with you caught in the midst. His body heated the air, and his slight sweat turned it humid, creating a tropical storm unlike any the Earth had ever seen with each and every padding, bare footed step. You scream, your reverie replaced with horror as any semblance of control is stripped away. You slam into his pale ankle, the hard bone nearly shattering your nose, before you ricochet off back into the wind. His foot sweeps downward, and you're tugged along, skidding across the smooth, shaved instep as the foot settles, only to be flung back into the air with the following step. You're twisted forward and down, between the giants toes and beneath his foot. The sky is replaced by the reddened flesh, clean but for the slight grey staining of dust and hairs, undoubtedly invisible to the normal world but terrifyingly alien and immense to you. For a moment you fear you are about to be stepped on to join the debris, but his foot continues its arc forwards and you're ejected by the wind at his heel. You watch his heel impact, pink skin turning red and white as it supports his weight, flesh pressing out and settling for mere moments before lifting off once more, with you yet again pulled in it's wake.
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