“Wait…” you gulp, trying not to let abject wonderment cross stupidly over your microscopic face for your mountain-sized best friend to witness.  You already look pathetic enough, after all.  “I thought you said you weren’t going to let us do anything, um…”

            “Crazy?” she answers for you with a self-satisfied smirk as she continues glowering comically down at you, dwarfed humbly in the living landscape of her palm, your body not even long enough to reach across the surface of an M&M.  “That was what I said, wasn’t it?”

            “Yeah.  Not that I’m… a stickler for words.  The past is the past, you know?” you offer lightly, wondering if you’re being subtle enough.  “I’m all about the future.”

            “I’ll just bet you are.  Especially now,” Ellie counters teasingly, biting her lip.  Steadily, her hand rises closer to her lips until each time she lifts her lips to speak you can see into the concert hall-sized space of her mouth, churning with literal rivers of her soupy saliva, the walls glistening and gorgeous and billowing out puffs of swished steam with every vigorous exhalation.

            God, you want to be in there so bad that it aches from your core and out to every extremity.

            “I’m… sensing that you’re open to discussion on the subject now,” you manage dryly at last, words extinguished from you at the breathtaking visage before you.

            “I am,” she murmurs winsomely.

            “Why?” you ask.  The reason could be just about anything and your opinion probably wouldn’t budge in the slightest, but your curiosity has gotten the better of you.  Plus, you need as much time as possible to wrap your head around what you assume to be the purest form of earthly euphoria that might well-await you now past the plush gates of those lips.

            “It’s… just what you said.  Before I made you like this,” she says.  With you so close to her mouth, and a rush of air with every syllable, she only allows the words to click gently from the back of her throat with just enough clarity to be understood.  “How you…”

            “Trust you with my life.”

            “Yes.  That.  I…” she continues weightily, and you hear another heavy intake of breath, as though she’s suddenly having difficulty.  Befuddled, you peer upward at the towering wall of her angelic face, past the winding honey tresses, and realize her moonlight irises are pooled with enough moisture to drown you.

            She’s… tearing up?

            “Ellie,” you utter, your voice cracking with surprise and concern for her.  “What are you-”

            “Sorry.  I… know I don’t get like this a whole lot.  Or ever,” she gulps, sniffling and pursing her lips again.  “But I just wanted you to know that I… I appreciate what you said.  More than you know.”

            “Maybe you can help me to know sometime, then,” you suggest, patting a hand down onto the immense plain of palm flesh below you as consolingly as you can muster considering the difference in your scale, though you feel the slightest tremor in the earth below you.  She obviously felt it.

            “I will,” she vows with a steady nod, biting her lip to quell herself, and a tired smile appears on her lips again.  “If we really are trying to be more honest now, and you’re willing to say that to me, well… maybe I have to trust you just as much, and have some faith in your instincts.”

            “Okay,” you utter, at an even more thorough loss for words now.

            “So if you want to play a little,” she continues with bracing finality, blinking once again and batting away a drop of the welled tears from her eyes.  “Then we’ll play.”

            The journey of the next few seconds is an odyssey that passes into a crawling rush of bliss that you wish you could savor until the end of time.  You lose yourself between the pads of those tenderly pinching fingers as she picks you up, somehow knowing the exact pressure to exert on you without causing the slightest twinge of pain in your body, which at this scale is fragile enough to be shattered by the average human being’s nervous tic.  All you can see is the swirling skin, plush and warm to your touch, and if you didn’t know what was coming next, you know for certain you could nuzzle into this cocoon of Ellie’s fingertip flesh for hours on end.

            But of course, you know what’s coming, and your breath is caught in your chest, stinging with anticipation.

            As promised, this time is indeed different, and despite her change of heart, you can tell Ellie’s taking every precaution as you are released from the almighty vice of her fingertips directly onto the spongy surface of her tongue, which has flattened itself uncharacteristically to the floor of her foggy cave.

            The heat hits you immediately in a billowing wave that clings like a film to your skin, but as the cold is still settling into your bloodstream without a clear sign of stopping, your body finds a happy medium as you try to regain your sea legs, or rather tongue legs.  Each taste bud is a hill in the terrain under your steps, sampling your flavor on every stride, and you can feel fresh saliva flooding back over the surface within seconds of your arrival like a low tide licking at your heels on a beach.  The path of her tongue leads too far back into blackness for you to make out clearly, but her uvula dangles in the back like a squishy, organic flag claiming sovereignty.  For the moment, with her maw still spread wide open to give you light, Ellie seems content to let you adapt to your newly colossal surroundings.

            You’re pleased to find that moment doesn’t last long as her perfect truck-sized ivories close together with a clean clack that echoes all the way to the back of her throat and leaves you in her friendly, familiar darkness.

            A seismic wave somewhere below rumbles through the fibers of the powerful organ you stand upon.  You can hear the suction of the saliva smacking against skin and swirling in whirlpools and cataracts, even feel it splashing up against your chest and the nape of your neck.

            It’s starting.

            You’re almost too excited to stand still.  Surrendering your every move as well as your body to Ellie’s divine selection seems the best and only option in these humbling grounds, so you flatten yourself down against the tremoring floor, letting the monstrous taste buds cling to you.  Letting the stickiness alight like a warm kiss on your skin.  Letting the sides of the tongue tube up around you in a veritable tidal wave of uncompromising red muscle, sealing you in a hot vacuum of air and trickling fluids.  Gloriously protective and violently experiential at once.  You’re rocked back and forth, cradled by the generosity of a heavenly creature of such might that you could hardly be said to exist amongst her, and yet somehow, you do, against every rule of logic.

            She senses your every move and every breath as you begin to slide down the slimy tunnel toward the dank region beyond, but you feel no anxiety or doubt for even an instant.  All you have to do is let yourself go.  You are alone in body, yet all around you is Ellie and her body taking charge of you for a little while.  The rush of muggy air and sloshing slave against your cheeks brings you on a relentless rush into the most refined approximation of the present moment you think you’ve ever experienced.

            You are awake.  You are here.  That’s all that matters for this heartbeat.

            Your trust in Ellie’s control pays off when gravity shifts again and you’re slipping back toward the cavernous front well before you find yourself wrapping around her uvula.  Her tongue is twitching and swirling with great care and practice, like clockwork, aware of your existence in every sense.  Every move is calculated several seconds ahead and probably further than that.

            Next you’re cupped into a shallow pool of frothy saliva that you sink easily into up to your neck, weighing you down with its gooey heft and still keeping you afloat, but it all drains away back down the rosy valley of her tongue as you’re served back to the center, still lying on your back, still totally in serenity and feeling happier than you have in a long time.

            And the longer you let yourself float under Ellie’s godlike power, the more you realize it’s not just because of where you are right now physically, but where your mind and heart have found themselves so seamlessly.  You realize how easy it is to exist here, and if not here, anywhere, at any size, as long as you are near Ellie and she can protect you.  The size of a pill.  The size of a crumb.  The size of an ant’s eye.  It wouldn’t matter; she’d be there, watching over.

            You are a single particle of the universe, clinging to a leaf on the surface of the still ocean before a storm.

            Like the storm in Ellie’s eyes.

            Your heart is in your throat from the thrill of all this perfect madness, and still simultaneously calm and steady, beating even a bit below normal: as peaceful as the previous evening when you had your head cradled in Ellie’s lap, her fingers playing with your hair and occasionally crossing to cup your cheek against her warm palm.

            You feel it, all of a sudden.  The bond is white-hot in your chest.  Unceasing and infinite.  You know for certain you have never felt this close to a human being in your whole life, and you probably never will to any other.  In this moment, it’s just the two of you in a vacant and peaceful world, and it is yours.