Then, he spotted it—a grimy, balled-up sock lying in front of him, half-tucked under a crack in the floorboard. It reeked, but it looked like cover. “I should hide here,” Dylan whispered, his voice barely audible. “I think it’s safe.” He scurried forward, burrowing into the sock’s cotton folds, his heart pounding as he tried to blend into the fabric.
Moments later, the door to James’s room creaked open. James stepped out, his massive sneakers thudding against the floor. He paused, frowning at the scattered clothes littering the hallway. “What’s with all this dirty laundry?” he muttered, scratching his head. Shrugging, he bent down, scooping up the sock—Dylan included—along with other stray clothes, and dumped them into a white laundry bucket.
Dylan clung to the sock’s fibers, dizzy from the sudden motion. The bucket swayed as James hoisted it and trudged down the hall toward the laundry room. Dylan peeked out, his tiny body jostled with each step. “This was a terrible idea,” he squeaked, gripping tighter.
As James rounded a corner, Dylan slipped loose from the pile, tumbling out of the bucket. Dylan yelped, as he plummeted to the ground. He hit the floor with a soft thud, dazed but unharmed—until a shadow loomed over him. A towering figure, easily seven foot two, strode past James, his boots shaking the ground. This was Marcus, a lanky giant with a distracted air, his earbuds blasting music as he hurried somewhere.
Dylan—caught on the cuff of Marcus’s jeans as he brushed past. Dylan screamed, now dangling precariously from the giant’s ankle, whipped back and forth with each oblivious step. The hallway blurred around him, James’s fading footsteps drowned out by the rumble of Marcus’s stride. Trapped on this new giant’s body, Dylan’s adventure had taken a wild, terrifying turn.
For now, he hung on, plotting his next move, while the giant world rumbled on around him.