You approach slowly, aware that - at any moment - that foot could move, crushing you without a thought. George is like a goddess to you now, with power beyond your imagining at her disposal. You, in turn, are a bug, a germ, a nothing. It's humbling.
It seems as if the foot - that terrible, death giving foot - is staying still for now. Those toes, standing on top of the mule platform half your height, are still wriggling slightly, but they're the lesser of two (admittedly huge) evils.
You clamber up the shoe to stand in front of them, in awe of both them and the foot to which they're attached. Then you look up the vast length of the leg, and think of how you're going to have to redefine your idea of big soon.
Reaching out, you gingerly lay your fingers on the surface of George's big toe. It's smooth and warm, and bucks wildly at your touch. Hmm, seems that she's very sensitive. Should you attempt to climb up, or just tickle her a little to get her attention?
Then again, as you notice the thick strap that lies across the top of the toes, another idea enters your head; if you could somehow undo the buckle and clasp securing the shoe to her foot, George would have to realise that you're something more than a bug when she spots you! You'll just have to hope that your muscles are the equal of the task.
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