I land on a soft and (at least for me), thick fabric. My first instinct is to let myself slide down for a moment and get some distance from the hole, I don’t want to fall out during her gigantic steps. As she starts lowering her foot to the ground, the weightlessness kicks in, and I do what I’ve been trained to do: I dig my hands and feet into the fabric, between the strands. Half a moment later, the shoe crashes into the ground with enormous, world-shattering force. My senses go into overdrive: The first thing I experience is the overwhelming sound. The soft “tap” of her foot on the floor is to me an earthquaking rumble. As her weight is distributed on her foot, the plastic and the canvas of the shoe creak audibly all around me. If I didn’t know better, I would be afraid that the megastructure could collapse all around me at any instant – but it’s just an extraordinarily small girl’s cute little shoe! The scent of her shoe and foot become stronger on my nose, as the air I am breathing in is now wholly tainted by my new owner’s footwear. It’s strong but not bad. My eyes see a blur of light blue in the limited light – I guess only the tops of her socks were white, and the rest was baby blue. And the heat! I am slowly being accustomed to being enclosed in an environment that is dominated by a hmuan’s body temperature instead of the open air in my previous “home”. There is enough space between her foot and the canvas so that I am not completely pressed on both sides. Where am I? I’m around the middle of her instep, on the edge of the arch of her gigantic foot. If I let myself drop further down, I would easily drop down underneath her arch. For now, I hold on. We aren’t moving. There are muffled voices from above – Hannah and the shopkeep probably exchanging a pointless goodbye and thank you very much for your business chat. And then, her gigantic foot flexes. She’s adjusting her toes, and her muscles move all across her foot. It suddenly moves and smashes my back against the canvas wall of the sneaker. My body is almost absorbed into the fabric of her sock. She’s trying to feel me. That must be it. I hear a thundering grinding noise, as her plastic sole is rubbing on the floor. If she had bought the bigger ones, she could easily feel them in her shoe, but I guess I’m a bit too small. “The runt”, as I was called. This girl had two thousand to buy me, but I was still a significant cost. I wonder what my fate will be.

As I am finishing my thoughts, she starts walking. Her foot pushes up, dragging me and her shoe along for the ride, as I am once more weightless and flying forward for just an instant. I hold on for dear life, because I know that the next crash is coming. And it comes, it echoes across the tight chamber. Flying again, crashing again. The sound changes as she steps out of the shop, from the fake wooden floor to the harder pavement. I look up, at the holes that bring a tiny amount of light in the shoe. After only a few steps, we stop. Well, she stops, I don’t have a say. I hear a heavy car door opening, and she climbs in. I cannot hear any voices greeting her, so I assume we’re alone. She pulls her leg inside, and everything turns on its side – she must be having her foot crossed on her other leg, as the canvas of the shoe is not my ceiling. I relax my grip just a little bit on her sock, and take a deep breath.

Suddenly, the canvas collapses on the sock a short distance away from me. Something enormous is pressing down on it. It must be her finger. It slowly moves, tracking the surface of the shoe from the outside. She’s searching for me. After a few seconds, I take a deep, slightly vinegary breath and brace myself as the enormous fingertip reaches me, compressing me once again between the fabric of her gigantic sock and her shoe. It immediately withdraws, however. “Please hold on right there, okay?” I can hear her from outside. Please? I chuckle. She’s actually asking me to hold on! Her hand moves away and there is rumbling from the top of her shoe. Something long and soft slaps on the side, it must be her laces. Indeed, the shoe opens up slightly as the laces become less tight. More light floods in, and suddenly the canvas cover speeds away from me and the sock, as we are violently pulled off the shoe. Well, violently for me, as the light and air are rushing around me, but to her mind, it must have been a gentle and soft tug.

Once my eyes are accustomed to the light, I can see that I was right. Her foot is resting against her leg. I am indeed on a light blue colored sock. My eyes scan my new owner. Far above, her face is looking down directly at me. Her ashen blonde hair is crowning her round face, dropping down like curtains. She is wearing a simple white puffy jacket that covers her body – I can’t help but think that she’s almost swimming in it. One of her arms is on her chest, and an enormous hand is clutching her chest, as she breathes quickly – she’s excited and amazed at what she’s looking at. From where I am, on the side of her sock, I can barely see her wearing jeans on her legs. I stand up, my feet barely digging into the fabric of the sock, and I wait to be spoken to, to be ordered and instructed.

“Hi… I’m Hannah. Pleased to meet you … um… you don’t really have a name, do you? She told me. I don’t know what to call you, but you’re so little!” She takes a sharp breath, and I can almost feel the air rushing around me as she inhales. I am trying to think of something to answer, but she starts speaking again. “Oh, I’m sorry. I hope my voice isn’t hurting your little ears.” I shake my head vigorously. It doesn’t really. She could bring me up to her mouth and scream on the top of her little lungs, and only then I’d be mildly discomforted. “I’ll just call you little for now, if you don’t mind.” This is becoming silly, but I try not to laugh at the situation. She either has no idea on how to treat something like me, or I spent my last fifteen years being trained for the wrong kind of use. At this point I should be smothered under her heel or drowning in her mouth or being forced into a sticky cave, not have “small” talk forced on me!

“As you can tell, I’m kind of, um, little.” Oh boy. I could tell you that you’re a towering mountain and you wouldn’t believe me, I think. But I can’t help to crack a smile at her. I guess I need to be reassuring at this point. “My therapy lady said that it would do me good to have someone like you to have around. You know. When you want to feel that you do have some kind of control instead of, of…” Suddenly, her hand comes close to me, and her awaiting palm stands next to me. I obediently grab onto her little finger and hop on it. She very gently slopes it down towards her palm, so I walk towards the middle. “I can feel your tiny feet on my skin!” She exclaims. She pulls her leg down and lowers me, showing me the pedals of her car. “I mean; I can barely reach those when driving. I need a special boost on my seat. People treat me like a kid everywhere I go. You saw that lady at the store, I’m sure she’s a great lady but…”

“NO!” I yell up at her. She pauses. Good. She can hear my squeaky voice. “No? No what?” she asks me, shutting up for the first time. Her eyes focus on me, pupils almost as wide as I am tall, waiting for an answer. I take a deep breath and yell back an answer: “She’s rude and obnoxious to everyone. It doesn’t matter if you’re playing basketball, if you’re normal, if you’re short or if you’re a tiny. She’s just mean to everyone like that. You’re not special, trust me.” I want to keep talking to her, telling her that it’s absurd for her to worry about reaching pedals when I will never be able to feel what is like to drive a car, to be a real human being instead of a toy. But I bite my tongue. Maybe a good first impression will do much more good to me. Boy, this girl has problems. But I can’t help feeling a bit proud of myself as I see her relaxing and gently smiling. If I am a psychological prescription tiny, I better act my part.

I can see the point. I can see myself being tortured by those idiots that are probably still fucking their brains out in my old box at the store. I can remember the times I snuck out to visit the box of the even tinier people, just to dominate them for a bit and feel a bit different. It must be the same to her.

She brings me closer to her face to inspect me. I don’t particularly like this part, but I just stand on her palm, watching the gigantic eyes peering through my naked body. “Do you not have clothes? Do they even make them for you?” Of course they do, but I’m the cheap option. Plus, if I’m to be worn in her clothing, her sweat is going to eventually ruin them anyway, and she can cover my need for warmth anyway. I let her figure this out on her own as she keeps staring at me. She brings her little pinky fingertip close to me, and touches me as gently as she can. I’m positively surprised that I didn’t really need to brace myself for impact. For a first time buyer of a tiny, she knows how to handle one. Good. I let her feel my body. It brushes against my chest and arms. She lowers it, and it passes my abdomen and genitals. She probably can’t even feel them, but this invasion of my nonexistent privacy still feels nice, soft and warm to me. I spread my legs just a bit as I stand so that she can feel them better. She looks slightly embarrassed to be touching me like that, but I feel like she’s enjoying it.

“Okay. It’s nice to meet you. I drove here from my college town, and we need to get back soon. Would you mind riding under my toes for the drive back? Are you hungry? The lady said you ate before I walked in the store. I’ll get you some food when we make it home in a couple of hours.” She’s not really supposed to ask for my consent, but I simply nod. I haven’t been fed today, but I won’t object for now. She lowers her hand and very gently drops me on her jeans-clad lap. I look up at her gigantic jacket again. There is a pocket that is cavernous enough for me to get in, but I guess she wants to actually feel me on her body. That’s expected. With her other hand, she reaches to the passenger seat and pulls her enormous shoe close. It’s turned around so that I can see its bottom. The brown plastic is somewhat worn. I can still see the treads of her shoe and the diamond-like pattern, but there are small pieces of dirt here and there. I shudder at the thought that I could disappear under this dirty sole in an instant if she wants to step on me. It’s enormous, gigantic, but at the same time, yes, it is quite small. Most of my training has been with adults wearing me in their imposing shoes, not children, and she … ah, I did the same mistake as everyone else who meets Hannah does. She’s not a child, even if she’s the size of one. She’s an adult woman. I can start seeing a world where her ownership of me might have a medical, psychological point. She sets her shoe next to me on her lap. I’m only barely as tall as the black stipe on the side of the canvas. As the enormous footwear settles next to me, I grab onto the plastic side and start climbing my way up to the low-top lip. But before I can even reach the canvas fabric, I am gently squished between the thumb and forefinger. She carries me up and down again. When the fingertips separate, I feel my feet touch the soft beige floor of the shoe. The scent of her foot is there, albeit weaker than when she is wearing the shoe. I look down and see that I stand between the huge letters of her heel. I look up at the opening, and I see her peering down on me. “I hope you didn’t mind me giving you a boost! Even though you looked kinda cute trying to climb my little shoe.” Yep, that’s an honest smile, instead of a shy one. She’s already getting used to being a giant goddess to me. I smile back and wave to her, and I start my trek towards the front edge of the shoe. The floor is definitely shaped after her foot, and the spots that receive the most pressure are darker than the rest. I am walking on my owner’s enormous footprint. Deep ahead, I can see the mark the ball of her foot has left, and the small marks of her petite, monstrous toes. The shoe tilts down a bit, but not enough to make me lose my footing and tumble. The light behind me becomes darker. I turn to look back, expecting to see a gigantic blue socked foot entering already, a foot that I couldn’t outrun, a foot that will just overtake me and uncaringly carry me with it across the sole of the shoe. Instead of that, I see a small piece of her face, and a brown eye looking at me. I sigh. This isn’t ownership, this is a damn circus. I give her a thumbs up and keep walking until I reach the wall of the shoe. I can see that her toe marks close to me. Even her smallest leaves an imprint the size of a small bed to me.

I hold on to the edge as her hand grabs onto the shoe, partially collapsing the enormous ceiling of the sneaker. She tilts the shoe slightly on the back. Thankfully I don’t tumble back to her heel. Finally, the light goes dark as her unquestionably massive foot enters the cavern, five hungry toes gently wiggling as they move towards me, stopping only a really short distance from my body. I can feel her tightening the laces above. It’s not a tight fit for Hannah, but it’s not loose either. I’m glad she shops the right size. Too tight of a shoe and there isn’t enough space for me, too big and I tumble around crazily as she walks. She mentioned wanting me under her toes, didn’t she? I comply, and as her foot rests almost vertically on the pedal, I let go of the edge of the shoe, and drop on to her sock-covered toes. They immediately wiggle at my presence. I wait a moment for her excitement to pass, and then I squirm my way underneath them. I’m somewhere between her big and second toe. I lay my back on the floor of the shoe, and I am facing the sock fabric that rubs my whole body. She wiggles her toes once again and secures me in place. If I drop more, I’d be wedged under the ball of her foot.

I hear a rumble of a thousand volcanoes – the engine of her car has started. We are on the move. Hannah is short, and she can barely reach the pedals. As I soon found out, she drives with the tips of her toes on the pedal, which means I’m directly between her foot and the machine. Every time she presses on it, her socked foot smashes me against the floor of the shoe. Then it softly lifts up just a bit. Then I am slammed again. I lose track of it, slowly drifting to sleep. It’s winter outside, and predictably enough, Hannah turns on the heat. Soon, her foot starts sweating, and the sock that’s smashing against me becomes damp. I take a deep breath, and her foot scent is now undeniably all around me. Even if her manners are sweet, her body is now greeting me with salt. My body is now clinging to the somewhat wet fabric. That’s why tinies don’t have clothes, I reassure myself. They’d get ruined right here. At least I am not directly under a toe, then I’d be in an even tighter situation. An enormous toe wiggle here and there breaks the monotony of her driving. But it’s really not that bad, I have to admit. She isn’t trying to purposefully kill me in her shoe. She’s just having me along for the ride. I hope she feels some empowerment from that.

Soon after, I drifted off to complete sleep. I did not wake up until we made it home. And that’s all I have to say about yesterday, the day I met Hannah. Just as I am done reminiscing yesterday’s events, I come back to the present. She’s out of the shower, and she’s casting her shadow on the pajama pocket I am still in. It’s time for the second day to begin.