There are many pivotal events historians argue changed the course of human species. A few that come to mind are the fall of Rome, the Black Plague, the Renaissance, and Columbus’ 1492 voyage to the Americas.

Watchers of history, expert and amateur, eventually came to a unanimous agreement that those occurrences — previously thought of as momentous evolutions in our existence — were practically blips compared to what happened in the 2020s.

When the COVID-19 pandemic faded from the world’s collective consciousness — several years after the initial lockdowns — those still paying attention noticed something rather strange.

A substantial percentage of men across the world were losing weight. And a lot of it. It wasn’t uncommon for overweight adult males to shed dozens of pounds and have their beer bellies entirely melt away.

At first, nobody panicked. In fact, people were overjoyed during the first few months. Previously obese men were taking to social media to show before and after pictures. Even men who were in shape were dropping mass faster than they could put it on in the gym. And the only thing women seemed to talk about was how their men were finally, miraculously becoming trimmer, healthier and more attractive.

The dialogue shifted dramatically when enough men dwindled beyond merely being forced to tighten their belts. Some guys found themselves needing to shop in the boys’ section. Step stool sales skyrocketed around this time.

By this time, the most serious cases of what was then being called “male shrinkage” were being broadcast to the world. If someone didn’t know a man who was shrinking, they had at least seen one on TV or on their phone.

Major countries together with the UN convened a consortium of all-female scientists to get to the bottom of what was happening to men. They eventually found a similarity in all the men who were shrinking the fastest. They had all either contracted COVID-19 one or multiple times. Additionally, most of them had gotten the disease early in the pandemic, which suggested the symptom of shrinking had a latency period of three or so years.

A study commenced in December 2023. The sample size was 1000 people infected with COVID sometime in 2020. There were 500 rapidly shrinking men, none of whom were even four feet tall at the start of the study, and 500 women, all of whom stayed exactly the same size throughout.

The men were subjected to daily blood tests, invasive physicals and measuring sessions. This was downright humiliating for most of them: seeing their female nurses and doctors, who were becoming bigger and more intimidating by the day, poke and prod them like they were cattle. To reassure them, they were often told things like: “You’re making a great sacrifice to help us cure your fellow men.”

Regrettably, after eight months of constant observation of the male and female subjects, the scientists were no closer to an explanation of how men were shrinking, let alone an antidote for the never-before seen ailment. And following those eight months, the average height of the male subjects had descended to a frightening four inches.

The rest of the male population would soon follow. By the end of 2025, most adult men were two feet tall or shorter.

The mystery that continued to confound everyone was the fact that women infected with COVID simply did not shrink. There wasn’t a single documented case of a woman shrinking. Nor would there ever be.

Chapter 1: September 1, 2028- Move-in Day

As a lifelong New Yorker, Cameron never thought he’d end up on the west coast. Then again, he never expected to end up shrinking down to a half an inch tall.

For the longest time, he thought he was invincible. Even when COVID was tearing through his college campus, he ignored the quarantine directives and hosted huge ragers. At the time, his rationale was that he’d only be a college kid once. Damn the virus, he had thought. It only seriously affected old people and he was young with an enviable physique. He wouldn’t die from this. It was his right, no, his duty to get as drunk and high as he could as often as he could.

On his bad days, his mind would torture him by reminding him of all the times he’d say things like: “This shit is overblown, there’s nothing to worry about.” He was particularly haunted at the memories of him telling his male friends that they were pussies if they didn’t want to go out because of the pandemic.

He was the de facto leader of his friend group, and a lot of the friends he accused of cowardice at the time were now inches tall. All because he strong-armed them into going out to bars and convincing them to ignore common sense.

Once the dormant long COVID shrinking symptom worked its way through the male population, Cameron tried to call his friends, only to realize they didn’t consider him a friend anymore. Many of them blamed him for their current condition.

One of his frequent bar buddies, Kyle, who used to look up to him (literally and figuratively), angrily asked him how tall he was now. When he answered with a half an inch, Kyle let out a derisive laugh before saying, “Serves you right, asshole.” The line disconnected.

Cameron spent years sulking on a shelf in his parents’ house in Long Island. The guilt over the terrible person he’d been in college ate away at him. He finally snapped out of his funk when he noticed how much his mother was struggling to care for both him and his dad, who’d shrunk to two feet tall. She was a saint and would never admit that he or his father were a burden. But he knew the truth.

After a few months of searching, he locked down two virtual customer service jobs and was working 16 hours a day. The pay wasn’t much, but he saved every single penny he earned and invested wisely.

A girl named Evie, one of his few friends left from his college days, texted him just after his 28th birthday in February to tell him about a community that was being built for men like him in Spokane, Washington, of all places. A female billionaire who claimed to have altruistic motives was financing the project.

He checked out the website and saw that construction hadn’t even begun yet. They planned to build four towers. One for men an inch tall or smaller. A second for those in the two-to-five-inch range. A third for six to eight inchers. And finally, there’d be a substantially bigger tower for men who were anywhere from eight inches to a foot and a half tall. It would be called Shrunken Spokane. Perhaps not the most dignified name, but what could he do?

Each tower would have its own grocery store, gym, movie theater, and plenty of other amenities that would be perfectly scaled for its residents.

The website explained that all the towers would be customly constructed based on demand. And thank god Evie’d texted him because the deadline to get his name on the list was that day. Seeing that thousands of men had already signed up for the smallest tower, he hastily signed his name on the dotted line.

Pending a background check, he was now legally obligated to move into a unit in this yet-to-be constructed tiny apartment building.

Months later, the building was finished. Two days prior to move-in day, he boarded a plane to Spokane as a stowaway in his teary-eyed mother’s chest pocket. His dad stayed behind with Cameron’s aunt who would watch over him, as he’d do nothing but slow them down in transit.  

Eventually, he and his mother arrived at the apartment complex’s entrance for full-sized people. There was a collection of metal detectors out in front of steel walls that spanned as far as Cameron could see. After spending some time waiting in line, she was patted down by private security guards, both of which were female.

“Name of tenant you’re escorting?” one of the guards asked.

Holding her son in one hand and all his worldly possessions in the other, she responded, “Cameron.”

Ther guards were satisfied and let the pair through the metal detector and past the 15-foot wrought iron gates. Once inside, Cameron’s mother walked down a straight, paved path flanked by hedges at about her hip height. At the end of the path, there was a mass of people they assumed were escorting their shrunken men as well.

Everywhere they looked was adorned with lush greenery, elaborate floral displays and impeccably trimmed grass. Based on what Cameron read, this area used to be a public park until it was bought for the purpose of housing tiny men. And clearly, they spared no expense on the landscaping.

It took some time for Cameron and his mom to get to the front, but when they did, they were quickly informed of the move-in procedures. But more importantly, they laid eyes on where Cameron would be living.

All four towers were there, spaced out from one another. His tower, the smallest of the bunch, was all the way to the left. All the amazing perks he’d read about online were plainly visible. As his mom moved closer, he peered past her fingers to see a tennis court; a rock-climbing wall; and a pool complex, complete with water slides, a tiki bar and saunas. He assumed the rest of the outdoor facilities were behind the building.

His mom ventured up to Cameron’s building until she was face-to-face with it. He looked up at her from way down below in her palm. He remained just as in awe of how gigantic she was since he shrunk down four years earlier.

“Honey,” she said, blankly staring forward in what appeared to be disbelief, “I’m taller than your entire building. I can see all your neighbors unpacking their boxes. This is just…crazy.”

“It’s OK, mom. Let’s just get me situated in there, alright? I’m on the 26th floor.”

As his mom reluctantly lowered him into the roped off area for tiny men only, he thought back to the first couple of weeks on the shelf. He was nothing. Invisible. Unimportant. Pathetic. Most days, he had felt like a knick knack since he was surrounded by his old action figures, all of which stood head and shoulders above him.

And here he was now, confidently strutting into a dignified, acutely tailored environment just for him. He was paying the rent to be here with his own money, and he’d be surrounded by other adults that he could talk to without shouting or craning his neck. He’d be able to live, maybe not quite like he used to, but it was damn close.

The only thing that worried him a bit was the fact that there was an incredibly thick glass barrier separating the full-sized people from the apartments. He knew it should comfort him since it would prevent someone from accidentally or purposely demolishing the living quarters of thousands of helpless men, but it still made him uneasy. It felt like he was about to be a fish in a bowl.

Once inside, he found that everything was scaled perfectly. Walking around the lobby, riding the elevator and talking with his soon-to-be-neighbors, he could almost forget that he was the size of the average person’s fingernail. Almost.

He got to his floor after exchanging some small talk with a group of guys. His heart swelled with excitement when he reached his door. He fumbled with the keys for a few moments, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

Finally, he opened the door and saw just what he’d hoped to see. A perfectly normal apartment with all the luxuries a person could ask for. A kitchen with an oven, cabinets, counters and a dishwasher. A living room with a couch, a coffee table and a TV. A bedroom with a normal bed, not the flattened-down cotton ball he’d gotten used to for the last couple years. And finally, a bathroom with a toilet, not a thimble.

Seeing all of this, knowing it was his and that he didn’t have to rely on a soul, was a little too much to take in all at once. He collapsed onto his bed and wept. He was happy, yes. He had the beginnings of his own life. One where he wasn’t exiled in a high away place only to be escorted places in a hand dozens of times his size. But still, he was away from his family. His mom, who’d helped him through the most difficult time in his life. And right now, she couldn’t comfort him as hard as she tried. She couldn’t stand over him in his bedroom like she used to and give him forehead kisses. She didn’t even fit in his apartment and one of her kisses now would result in him getting stuck to her lip like a stray crumb.

He eventually composed himself, knowing his mom was outside waiting to hand him his stuff. Yes, his mom was essentially going to airlift every single item he owned into his apartment through the window. He approached the curtains and pulled them back, only to see someone’s waist adorned in light blue jeans obscuring his entire view. He quickly realized the hips that were as wide as an average school bus to him belonged to his mother.

He chuckled. That was all he could do. There was no sense entertaining the feelings of inadequacy he felt seeing that even 26 flights up, he was only as tall as his mom’s pants zipper. He used to give her bear hugs whenever he got home from college. Now, it’d be a miracle if he could win a wrestling match with her pinky.

One of the full-sized workers outside alerted Cameron’s mother that he was waiting for her. His window was now open, and he was ready to receive his items. Each window on the building had a corresponding slit in the glass barrier that big people could fit a finger through. So, his mother handed him box after box, placing it on her enormous finger and sticking it through his window. Her pointer finger invading his space really ruined the illusion the place was going for, but perhaps they’d come up with a better way to move tenants’ things later.

It didn’t take long for Cameron to pile up all his boxes of stuff in the living room. Still exhausted from all the traveling, he didn’t want to unpack right then. He endured a tearful goodbye from his mom. He, of course, shed some tears as well. Not that she could see.

She wasn’t allowed to stay long, given that other tenants were moving in, and the space in front of the buildings needed to be clear for the full-sized people accompanying them to help give them their stuff.

Cameron hated to admit it, but once his mom was gone, he collapsed on his couch feeling relieved. He could truly relax for the first time in years. If he wanted a glass of water, he could just go and get it from the tap. He didn’t have to wait for his mom to bring it to him. But most importantly, he wasn’t on display. He was in his own space where he could draw the curtains if he wanted to. Not on a shelf where there was no privacy.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like a man.

Soon enough, his stomach grumbled. It was then that he remembered that he had no idea how to cook. He never had to learn while living at home or at school. He got up and opened his fridge, only to find that it was empty. He then felt dumb thinking there’d be anything in there.

For a moment, he wished he was back home so his mom could just give him a miniscule portion from her plate like she always did at dinner. He scolded himself for wanting the easy way out.

He decided it was time to make a visit to the onsite grocery store to get some grub. He left without a list but with all the hope in the world.

After three months, Cameron was really starting to feel at home in his new apartment. He’d ordered some rugs to keep his feet from always being shocked by the cold tile. He even bought some postal stamps to use as wall art. They were cheap and stuck right on without much hassle.

Even better, he was friends with most of the guys on his floor. They played pickup basketball together, watched sports in each other’s rooms, played video games and drank beer. Although he’d formed bonds with many of his neighbors, Cameron found himself gravitating toward a guy named Niall the most. He was easy to talk to and had no problem busting his chops. Even better, he was somehow very well-connected. For instance, he was always hooking Cameron up with ultra-particular food items that were never on the shelves at the grocery store. Twinkies, kettle chips, vanilla coke, those sorts of things.

With all the horsing around and binge drinking, it almost felt like he was in college again. Except, there was one crucial aspect that was completely absent.

Girls.

By October, most men were tired of the constant sausage fest and longed for a female presence. The only true female contact they got was when they happened to see the giant women landscapers tending to the gardens outside the complex. And their outfits were rather conservative.

Cameron heard that some guys were carrying on full relationships with AI girls, but he didn’t want to go down that road. At least not yet. He wasn’t that desperate.

Though, by late November he was getting to the point where porn wasn’t enough. He wanted companionship with the opposite sex. Whenever he talked about it with Niall though, he didn’t say much. Either that or he quickly changed the topic.

The first spark of hope for girl time came via a flyer that was posted in all the hallways for a bar downtown. It was having a speed dating night specifically catered to the tiny men at Shrunken Spokane. Tiny men that were as small as a half inch (yay!) were allowed to come, but they had to arrange their own transportation. Plus, there was a cap on attendance. Only 20 tiny men would be let in.

Making matters even worse, Cameron heard through the grapevine that the other three towers with the bigger men also knew about the speed dating event. And each building had about 1,500 men inside, making his chances of going slim to none.

Eventually, a raffle was set up by four men from each building who all knew one another. They unilaterally decided that only five men from each tower would get to go. Everyone would draw numbers and if they matched the winning numbers, they’d get a chance to try and wow a girl thousands of times their size. Apparently, one of the full-sized employees agreed to drive the winners to the bar on the day of the event.

All the men gathered in the auditorium the day before the speed dating event. Cameron, even though he knew victory was far from guaranteed, picked a slip of paper with a number on it out of a hat. And so did the other 5,999 guys.

Before the winning numbers for his tower were shown, Niall, who was sitting next to him in the audience, nudged him.

“Listen to me, don’t ask me how, but I already saw the winning numbers. Let me see your slip,” he said.

Cameron showed Niall, who immediately frowned. He sunk his head in despair, knowing that Niall almost certainly wasn’t yanking his chain. He wouldn’t do that with something as important as this. Cameron knew for sure that he wasn’t going.

“Dude, don’t freak out at what I’m about to say. I happen to have a winning number. Number 56,” Niall showed the slip to Cameron. “Take it.”

“What are you talking about man, keep it! You won!”

“Keep it down, moron!” Niall said, eyeing some of the guys who’d turned to see what the commotion was.

“Niall, it wouldn’t be fair of me to take this. I’d feel guilty.”

“Well, believe me. You don’t have to,” Niall said.

“Why?”

“Do I have to say it? I’m gay.”

Cameron was flabbergasted. Suddenly, Niall’s avoidance of conversation having to do with liking girls made all the sense in the world.

“Seriously?” Cameron asked.

“Yeah, dude. Seriously.”

“Alright, well, hand it over then. And in return, I’ll have to set you up with someone. How about…Ryan?”

Niall handed over the slip. “Nah, that guy’s a prawn.”

Cameron laughed. “What does that mean?”

“Nice body, ugly face. Plus, I already fucked him.”

“Wait, seriously! Holy shit!”

“What can I say, I’m a bit of a slut.”

Cameron was amazed at how suddenly open and honest he was being about his sexuality. He wondered why Niall didn’t tell him earlier. Maybe he didn’t want to complicate things right away.

“Side note, I don’t think I’ve ever said something that mean about a girl. Bad face, nice body. Actually, scratch that. I definitely have.”

“Yeah, I betcha have, frat boy. And mark my words, if you don’t snag a baddie at this thing, I’m gonna convert you over to the dick side.”

“Dark side, dick side. Star Wars pun, nice.”

“That honestly wasn’t intended, but really man, I don’t understand how straight guys as small as us are going after chicks that could flatten them with their boot. You should really keep cock open as an option. Much more convenient and there’s no chance of death.”

Thankfully right then, the announcer on stage began calling out the winning numbers through the microphone, giving Cameron the opportunity to escape this brutally awkward conversation. And just like Niall promised, number 56 was called. Cameron was going speed dating. And he was determined not to be subjected to reverse conversion therapy.

***

The next day, Cameron arrived at the bar with nineteen other men. He was one of the smallest out of the bunch, with the tallest being a whopping nine inches. Of course, to him, that dude was a giant. He didn’t even come up to his ankle.

He took that to mean that the competition for attention was going to be quite fierce and that he, at a half inch tall, was at a profound disadvantage.

He was proven right almost right away, because once the group made it inside the bar, the maître d' didn’t see him and the other half inchers. Rather, she picked up all the guys who were two inches tall and bigger, leaving them alone in the roped off waiting area. It was only when one of the guys in her hand alerted her that she was leaving five guys behind that she returned.

She leaned down as far as she could, and her eyes widened when she saw the quivering outlines of what she now knew were grown men. She appeared genuinely remorseful over her mistake. “Oh, I’m sorry, little ones. I swear that I didn’t even know you were there.”

He caught a glimpse of her name tag. Marcy.

“It’s OK, Marcy. We’re pretty used to it. Whoaaaa!” Cameron tried to say before getting whisked up in her toasty, squishy palm.

As she walked deeper into the establishment, Marcy the hostess engaged in some light banter with the bigger men in her right hand. The smaller men who were in her left hand, including Cameron, were left out of the pre-flirting entirely. Which again, was to be expected. He didn’t take it too hard, though it was annoying to be ignored once again.

Instead of focusing on the rejection of the woman carrying him to his destination, Cameron opted to take in his surroundings. The bar was lively, playing bumping pop music through its countless mounted speakers. It definitely had a divey vibe, but interestingly, he realized that women outnumbered men by a longshot. The men who were there were sitting on women’s laps and relegated to the background. He saw one guy — probably around two feet tall — trying to get a word in but failing miserably. His girlfriend just kept chattering away to her friends, so he laid back and rested his head on her breasts.

Marcy bobbed and weaved around countless tables of rowdy women before reaching the backmost part of the restaurant. It was a separate, quieter room that had around two dozen tables. But more importantly, the women participating in the speed dating event were already there waiting for them.

Cameron tried to absorb their appearances all at once but found himself getting overwhelmed at just how gigantic they all were. His instinct was to get into the fetal position, retreating into the warmth of Marcy’s hand. But social niceties were still a thing despite how tiny he was now. He also remembered that at the distance Marcy was currently standing from the girls, they likely couldn’t see him or the other four dudes who were roughly his size.

Marcy ever so gingerly placed Cameron down on one of the tables. His first date was with a very fair-skinned girl who looked like she’d just passed drinking age. She had long, straight blonde hair that curled slightly at the ends. Next, he noticed her twinkling blue eyes, which were laser focused on him. Knowing he was essentially under a microscope, he tried to loosen up and look casual.

She, of course, was sitting on a normal chair, while he was on a platform that raised him up to eye level with her.

“Can you, um, see me and hear me?” was the first thing out of Cameron’s mouth. Not the smoothest thing in the world, but when he was sitting across from a woman whose face was similar in size to one of the heads on Mount Rushmore, it was hard to be a casa nova right off the bat.

She smiled at the sound of his voice, relieving his worries right away. “Yeah, I can hear you. But do you mind if I pull you a little closer?”

“Oh, of course not, haha!”

Her porcelain cheeks blushing, she gently moved his platform nearer to her side of the table. “Yikes, I didn’t mean for that to sound so forward.”

“Well, we only have five minutes, so I guess it’s best to get right down to business. I’m Cameron.”

Instinctively, he extended a hand for her to shake, but realized that that wasn’t really feasible. She too went to go shake his hand but thankfully stopped right before her finger bowled him over.

“Oops! Maybe we should just wave instead, Cameron.” She pulled her hand back and gave him a cutesy wave not dissimilar to the way a shy child would greet a stranger. “I’m Anna, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Anna. I’m Cameron. Wait, shit, I already said my name. Ughhh.”

He put his head in his hands, cringing at his faux pas. If he were his normal size, this young girl wouldn’t have him nervous at all. The fact that she could crush him into a paste with one finger understandably had him a bit off kilter.

“Awww, it’s OK! I really kinda thought I’d be the one to embarrass myself, so thanks for taking the pressure off. Not that you embarrassed yourself! It’s just that…”

“I know what you meant, no need to overanalyze,” he cut her off.

“You know, that’s funny. That used to be my nickname in school.”

“What?” he asked, intrigued.

“Overanalyze. You know, over-Anna-lyze. I was a bit of a worrywart back then. Guess I haven’t quite grown out of it yet.”

Right then, she put both hands over her mouth and her eyes widened in dismay. Cameron was confused, wondering what was troubling her.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! I said the word!”

She clenched her teeth and recoiled. Cameron, though, was completely befuddled.

“Word? What word?”

She whispered, “Grown.”

She once again withdrew into herself. From her perspective, it seemed that by merely saying that word, his self-esteem would be shattered. Did she think that little of him?

“Anna, it’s fine. You can say ‘grown’ or any other variation of that word in front of me. I know I’m pretty tiny, but I promise you I can handle it. I didn’t even notice you said it to be quite honest, so I definitely wasn’t offended. It is what it is. I’m a half inch tall.”

“I guess,” she said, unconvinced that she hadn’t ruined everything with one wrong word.

“How tall are you out of curiosity? Women are just all huge to me now, so it’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“I’m 5’9”. So, I guess pretty tall for a girl.”

“Wanna know something?”

She nodded.

“You are taller than the apartment building I live in.”

Her mouth fell open in shock, exposing what was essentially a canyon to Cameron. He tried to shake off thoughts of how small he was in comparison to her gaping trap.

“No way! You mean, I’m physically…bigger than an entire building?”

“Yup, there are forty-five stories in total, which may sound like a lot, but the tower is only 68 inches tall. And just to further burst your bubble, 1,500 other men my size live in a building you could knock down like King Kong. I wouldn’t be purposely belittling myself if I were offended by the word grown.”

After getting over the initial bombshell of how truly miniscule he was, she relaxed into her seat and let out a relieved sigh. Her exhale was strong enough to push his chair back a bit. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m glad I didn’t hurt your feelings or anything like that. It’s just that at school, they tell us not to use ‘sizey’ language in front of shrunken men. Especially ones as small as you.”

Ignoring the irony of her pointing out his smallness seconds after explaining the concept of “sizey” language, he found the segue he was looking for. She mentioned school. He could finally, hopefully, navigate them out of this storm of awkwardness.

“So, you go to school? Where at?”

“I’m right here in town at Gonzaga. I’m studyin’ English. But I’m a proud Idahoan. Born and raised on my Daddy’s farm. Where are you from?”

When he revealed his New York origins, she immediately rained questions down on him. “Oh my god, you live in New York City?!” “Do you like go to Broadway shows every weekend?!” “Where’s your favorite place to go, the Empire State Building?!”

He tried to answer everything, even as her queries became increasingly inane. In fact, while she was bombarding Cameron with her immature curiosity about New York, the one minute-warning alarm bell sounded. That seemed to snap her out of it.

“Sorry, Cameron. I didn’t mean to go on and on, it’s just that I’ve always wanted to visit. It’s just so different from where I live.”

“Yeah, I get it. Believe me, I didn’t think I was gonna end up in Spokane. Shrinking tends to put a wrench in your plans.”

She lolled her head sideways and looked down at him with sad eyes. It damn near looked like she was about to tear up. He, in turn, averted his eyes, embarrassed that this college-age girl was pitying his very existence.

And then she went on to say the worst possible thing she could have said.

“I know how you feel,” she started, though she didn’t seem to recognize the level of disrespect she was showing him with that statement. Not like when she *gasp* said the word “grown.”

She continued, “My dad shrank down to just two inches tall, and now he expects me to take over the farm with my mom when I graduate. That certainly wasn’t the plan before this stupid pandemic. I wanted to move somewhere that wasn’t corn and potatoes as far as the eye could see.”

Cameron was literally counting the seconds he had left on this date. Anna seemed nice enough, but she was way too young and naïve for him. Despite being a very beautiful girl, he felt no connection with her at all and doubted she felt different.

That’s why her asking him for his number surprised him. She asked right after the bell rang, and when he didn’t immediately respond, she qualified her request.

Anna progressively leaned down closer and closer to Cameron, unknowingly intimidating the tiny man. “I’m thinking about going on a trip to New York, and I’d really love it if you could give me some suggestions on where to go when I’m there. I don’t know a soul from there, so it’d really help to have a local’s perspective!”

Now that her giant, grinning face was inches from him, eagerly waiting for his answer, he panicked. He gave her his number and practically ran into Marcy’s waiting hand so he could be ferried over to Mrs. Right. Hopefully.

“See you around, Cameron!” Anna chirped, waving goodbye to him.

Thoroughly creeped out by her uncanny cheeriness, he muttered, “Yeah, see you never.”

He was glad he never specifically told her where he lived. Though, as a tiny man, it probably wouldn’t be hard for her surmise that he lived in the only tiny community in Spokane. He’d be sure to let security know to never let her in when he got back.

Marcy dropped Cameron off three tables down in front of a woman who was considerably older than Anna. He guessed her to be in her late twenties like him, which imbued him with hope that they’d have more in common.

Also, unlike Anna, she had a bit of a tan, as if she’d just gotten back from a vacation somewhere warm. Everything about her screamed that she had just gotten off work and rushed over. Her wavy dirty blonde hair had subtle bronze accents and she had it wrapped up in a massive floppy bun. Her outfit also wasn’t too elaborate. She was wearing a basic blue and white striped tanktop that showed a decent amount of cleavage.

His first intrusive thought came as soon as he laid eyes on her chest. He imagined what it would be like to jump off his elevated platform and into her tits. How warm and squishy it would be. How tight it would be. How far he’d sink. How completely trapped he’d be. He’d watched enough porn with shrunken men and normal sized women to be morbidly curious and have a desperate desire to go exactly where those tiny porn stars had been.

“Hi, I’m Victoria. Nice to meet you!”

He snapped his head up and met her gaze, hoping that she hadn’t seen him ogling her. “Oh, hey! I’m Cameron. Sorry I—”

“Was a bit preoccupied? What, pray tell, were you distracted by? Hmmmm?” she teased. Her head was cocked upwards in a faux attempt to appear mystified. Then, while smiling, her eyes traveled down to the obvious culprit. Her cleavage.

Desperate to explain himself, he went to open his mouth but couldn’t come up with a satisfactory excuse for his wandering eyes. Nor could he get his now completely hard cock to go to rest.

“You caught me. I was checking you out. I, uh, hope that’s OK.”

“Check me out as much as you’d like, little guy. I find it cute. Trust me, if I had a magnifying glass, I’d be checking you out too.” She bent over the table and squinted her eyes, trying to get a better look at the tiny man before her. He just hoped she wouldn’t take notice of his full boner. “Mmm, you’re definitely a looker. Brown hair. Chiseled jaw. Are those…green eyes? Bet you were quite the player in your heyday.”

“Hah! You mean when I was normal sized.”

“Yup, lemme guess. You were over six feet?”

Cameron stuck out a thumbs up. He’d learned that was a clearer signal to big people than a simple head nod. “Six foot three.” He had lost over 99% of his height, which only happened to guys with the most serious cases.

“I loved tall guys. All my boyfriends have been taller than me. I’m only five foot two.”

“Only?! You don’t have the right to say that anymore. Listen, I’m only a half inch tall.”

“Fair enough, Cameron,” she chuckled.

“What do gorgeous women like yourself even consider tall now?” he asked, genuinely interested in what she had to say.

Cameron watched as she let slip a reserved smile, a clear sign his compliment landed. She took a swig of her beer, diffusing the undoubtedly more charged atmosphere he’d created. Her lips then scrunched in thought at his original question.

“I dunno. I feel like for guys, eight inches is the new six feet. You know, kinda like how people say 40 is the new 30.”

“Guess I fit squarely into the short king category then.”

Again, she smiled, but this time she wasn’t expressing excitement over being praised, nor was she flirting. She was agreeing with him.

“Unfortunately, yes. You are a very short king. But you’re still a king. To be honest Cameron, I did kinda come here to meet guys a little taller than yourself. It’s nothing against you. In another life, I could see myself being very attracted to you. It’s just that you’re too small for me.”

“And everyone’s too big for me,” he pouted, getting up from his seat and looking away from her.

“That’s not true. I don’t know how long you’ve been on the dating market, but there are certainly women who prefer smaller men like you. You definitely have to weed out the crazies who only like super tiny men so they can add them to their collection or whatever. But once you get past those, there are women out there whose maternal instincts go from zero to 10 when they see a dude like you.”

He looked back at Victoria and offered a lukewarm smile. He appreciated that she was trying, but he didn’t want a mother. He wanted a partner. A partner who was attracted to him and viewed him as somewhat of an equal. He’d left everything behind to hopefully find just that. But he didn’t bother to tell his date that. They were running out of time with each other as it was.

“Thanks, Victoria. I’m glad you have some semblance of hope for a guy like me.”

“Hey, if you do happen to meet someone you’re compatible with tonight, you should use the line that my brother uses to pick up girls. It seems to work wonders for him and he’s an inch tall, so not much bigger than you.”

His interest was piqued. “Go on.”

“OK, you say, ‘I’d climb a mountain for you. Oh wait…’”

Cameron scoffed. “Oh my god, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. Maybe it’s the way my brother says it. Take it or leave it, I guess. Good luck, Cameron!”

“You too, Victoria!”

The bell rang not too long after this, meaning it was time to meet a new woman. The next one he was placed in front of was named Jessy, something he was informed of by her before he even left Marcy’s hand.

Jessy, who was quite well endowed in the chest like Victoria, seemed a little overeager. She was beaming from ear to ear and her eyes were bulging at the sight of him being placed on his little platform. That didn’t change the fact that she was nice to look at.

Her warm almond skin was complemented brilliantly by her shiny white teeth and her arresting hazel eyes. And when her eyes fluttered, her full lashes whipped up and down. He was sure that if they weren’t longer than him, they were very close. Her button nose and bright red dimples were the cutest features she had though.

Once his eyes met hers, she excitedly waved at him. The back-and-forth motion of her arm was enough to send a ripple effect down through her body and make her tits jiggle about in her red tube top.

Even though her sheer giddiness unnerved him a bit, at least it meant there was a possibility that she was more into him than Victoria or Anna was.

After they introduced themselves to one another, both got good looks at the other and got past the usual “I just met you crap,” Cameron got the ball rolling by saying what was on his mind. Plainly and simply.

“Jessy, I gotta say. You’re beautiful. The competition truly has nothing on you.”

And he meant that. Everyone else there, including Victoria and Anna, weren’t close to as hot as Jessy was.

“Awww, really?! That is so cute coming from you,” she squealed, her cheeks flushing red. “I feel the same way about you.”

“Yeah?” he prompted.

“Yeah! Are you kidding? You’re a total hottie, Cameron! The last guy I talked to…”

She paused and darted her head left and right, making sure no one was eavesdropping. She leaned down, bringing her face about a foot away from him. He felt weird sitting when she was about to confide in him, so he got up and moved closer. Close enough for the aroma of her perfume to waft down and fill his tiny nostrils. He could smell rose petals, along with a little bit of vanilla. He shivered, feeling the strong vibrations under his feet radiating through his entire body from her merely opening her mouth and whispering to him.

“Like I was saying, the last guy I was with had to be like 50. He was balding. Had a scraggly, unkempt beard. He even had a belly. I thought all guys lost that when they shrank,” she cooed down to him, her wine breath and slow, drunken cadence now very apparent. He was looking up at her mouth with his head craned at practically a 90-degree angle. She was so huge that he couldn’t even see her eyes. Just her lips moving and her nose flaring when she said something with emphasis.

“They did,” Cameron said. “But some guys over at Shrunken Spokane are big drinkers. Old habits die hard I guess.”

Perhaps realizing Cameron’s uncomfortable pitch, Jessy lowered herself onto the table, bracing herself with her forearms. Now, he could see much more of her face, her eyes included, which were still huge and ablaze with desire.

“I take it you’re not a big drinker then, are you Cam?” she asked, raising one of her perfectly manicured brows.

He gulped, not wanting to answer this one incorrectly. “No, I wouldn’t say so. I have the occasional drink, but usually just to celebrate milestones, you know.”

“Well, that’s OK,” she said, her face softening. “I like to have a drink here and there too, as I’m sure you’ve probably noticed.”

She seemingly realized how close she was talking to him and backed up.

“That’s OK, Jessy. I, uh, like red wine.”

“Oooh, that’s a good nose you have there, tiny! I’d love to split a bottle with you sometime.” She came closer, her dark brown hair spilling over her ears and framing her face. In a hushed tone, she said, “You can lick the cork and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Cameron’s heart was racing. With each word that spilled from her now-filterless mouth, his attraction for Jessy was building and building. He was panting like a dog and sweating profusely. Even worse, he was struggling with yet another stubborn hard-on. Given how forward she was being, he was hoping she’d take him in her hand so he could touch her skin, get doused in her intoxicating aura.

His hopes were dashed, however, when she asked him a relatively straightforward question.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 18,” Cameron said.

Jessy’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“I’m kidding! I’m actually 28.”

“Whoa, you really had me going there for a second. Despite your size, I can tell that you’re way too…confident to be a barely legal adult.”

“Really, you think I’m confident? I’m over here trying not to pee my pants around you ginormous women!”

She had a good laugh at that, “And you have jokes too.”

“Wasn’t joking,” he said under his breath.

“What was that?” she probed, a smile growing.

“Nothing that concerns you,” he chuckled, a boost of actual confidence surging through him. “How old are you, Jessy?”

Fully grinning, her head bobbled excitedly. With it tilted to the right, she gave him a sideways glance and told him, “Guess.”

“You areeeee…25?”

“Close, 23. I’m gonna decide to take that as a compliment.”

He nervously laughed, not sure how to respond. When she laughed along, he let out a sigh of relief.

Cameron and Jessy talked and flirted some more, until she noticed that the timer was running dangerously low.

“OK, I don’t want to pressure you, but I’m not ready to be done talking to you yet. I think I like you. Plus, you already said that I don’t have any competition. Why even swap partners at this point? We can just go to the bar. You and me.”

She smiled down at him, fervently awaiting his answer. Cameron was a bit apprehensive to leave the group of guys he came with in favor of a girl he’d spent four minutes with. The plan was that they’d ride back to the apartment complex together. If he absconded off with Jessy, he’d have to trust her to bring him back to the apartment at the end of the night.

He could just ask for her number and ask to meet up again. Though if they met up for another date, he’d have the same predicament. He’d have to trust her since they’d be alone together.

The truth was, Cameron was having fun now. He liked Jessy and felt a budding attraction to her. The last thing he wanted to do was let the spark fizzle out because he was too much of pussy to follow it through in the moment.

“Yes, let’s go to the bar, Jessy.”

“Hehe, I knew you’d say yes, tiny. Now, step into my hand. I’m your chauffeur for tonight.”

She rested the side of her hand on his platform, and he strolled onto her palm. As she got up from her seat, she closed her hand around the speck of a man. He was as big as a Skittle, and like a well-trained shrunken man, he didn’t dare move. That was what they were taught when a big person was carrying them. Staying motionless cut down on unnecessary accidents.

With every step there was a slight bounce, but Cameron was used to being carried this way by his mother. The only difference now was that he was in the hand of someone he was into, which made something that was normally mundane, extremely arousing. Her skin was so firm and taut, her youthfulness still very apparent. When he pushed down on her hand, he couldn’t even budge it. His fingers didn’t sink into her flesh or make the slightest impact.

Being wrapped up in her hand meant her scent was strong, yet it stopped short of being too much. It was like being dipped into a bouquet of roses in a sauna. She gave off so much body heat that he’d started to sweat a bit.

In his dark, hot surroundings, he began to miss the sight of Jessy’s face. Her cheeky smile. Her dimples. Her globes for eyes.

Right as he was about to touch himself to the thought of her, the up and down rhythm of her hand stopped. She stopped walking, Cameron gathered. He put his hands to the side, not wanting to get caught.

“Do you have a chair and table for a half-incher?” Jessy asked.

The bartender, presumably, said something that Cameron couldn’t make out. Judging by Jessy’s characteristic squeals, he guessed that he would be accommodated just fine.

Jessy suddenly unfurled her hand, sending him tumbling out onto the bar top. He landed with a thud in front of his chair and attached table. It resembled a highchair, just way, way, way smaller.

“Did ya enjoy the slide? Probably the only one you’re tall enough to ride.”

He hopped into his highchair and swung his legs to the side, so he didn’t look like a toddler. It was probably all for naught, but it made him feel slightly more at ease.

“Your whole body could be an amusement park for me,” he said, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“Oh reaaaallly? I do have an admission price, little guy. Wanna hear it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oooh, I’m so glad you’re interested! Let me order us some drinks, and then I’ll tell you all about what I want.”

Once her full-sized margarita and his drop of beer arrived, the atmosphere shifted. Jessy wasn’t nearly as chatty as she was before and even appeared nervous. She was literally twiddling her thumbs instead of talking to him.

Wanting to know what was up, he simply asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I, um. It’s just that when I get to this point with a guy, this is usually when everything falls apart.”

She took a big slug of her drink. Cameron gulped, realizing that the amount of liquid she just casually threw back could probably fill the swimming pool back at his place. Despite being tiny for years, observing giant people doing things that used to be normal for him always made his body twinge with inadequacy.

“What do you mean, Jessy? I feel like things are going great so far. We’re talking, we’re laughing. I mean, am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not. I’m just afraid to tell you what I know I need to tell you.”

His eyes darted around cautiously, taking in his surroundings. On Jessy’s left was a gray-haired woman who looked to be in her fifties. She was pretty hammered and was accompanied by a foot tall man. On her right, closer to him, was a much younger woman, close to Jessy’s age. The young woman was situated immediately behind him, and she was decked out in all black. Yet, strikingly, her face was ghost white. Even stranger, she was reading a book.

If things went bad, he wasn’t sure he could trust either the middle-aged lady who was already slurring her words or the bookworm goth chick to save him. He concluded that he was on his own.

“What do you need to tell me?” he asked.

She chugged more of her drink, then took a deep breath.

“I have a girlfriend, Cameron.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, I’m bi.”

“So, if you have a girlfriend, what are you doing out here?”

She looked down at her toes and reluctantly began to explain. “My girlfriend, Talia, is really into tiny guys. I initially wasn’t, but I’ve sort of warmed up to the idea of, you know, being intimate with them.”

She stopped to scan his face, and her resigned eyes let him know that she felt guilty for dumping this on him. He was experiencing one of the greatest letdowns in his life. He really thought they were vibing, but it turned out that she was just here for someone else.

“Anyway, Talia is a bit of an introvert. Despite being the one who’s really into small dudes, she’s too afraid to approach them. So, I meet up with the guys first and well, take them home with me.”

He stepped down from his highchair and paced around in circles for a while. Jessy was silent, watching him have his mini freakout.

Finally, after collecting his thoughts, he asked, “Did you even like me a little bit, or was it all an act?”

She sighed, nervously scratching her hand. “It wasn’t all an act. I genuinely enjoyed talking to you. But I won’t lie, I’m not interested in a long term or even a short-term relationship with you. This is one of my least favorite parts of this. Leading you tinies on.”

“What do you mean ‘one of?’ Is there something else you’re about to spring on me?!” he asked.

“Sort of, yeah. I know I’ve treated you with respect up to this point, but now that the jig is up, I’m gonna have to insist that you come with me.”

Cameron vision went black for a moment, and he stumbled back into his highchair. Instead of making it into his seat, he hit his head on the seat and slumped to the ground. The highchair scraped across the bar top, making a surprisingly loud ruckus.

“Oh boy, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink, Cam Cam,” Jessy said so those within earshot could hear. He cringed at the fake familiarity she was projecting to the people around her, using a supposed pet name for him. “Let me scoop you up, and we can get you home.”

Cameron sat on the ground in horror as Jessy’s hand, which minutes earlier was an object of affection, closed in on him. The nearer it got, the further his heart lept into his throat. Abject terror gripped the tiny man. He was now convinced that his attempt to get a fresh start in Spokane was about to be ruined by this temptress.  

He didn’t even try to run because he was cornered. His highchair was behind him, Jessy’s towering margarita glass was to his right and her other arm was blocking his left flank. Plus, the bar he was standing on was around 50 stories off the ground for him. He had nowhere to go even if he somehow managed to evade Jessy’s giant, hulking hand.

That left him one option. Scream as loud as possible and hope someone interceded on his behalf.

“HELP! SHE’S TRYING TO KIDNAP ME! I DON’T WANNA GO WITH HER! I JUST WANNA GO HOME!”

To the big people around him, his yelling sounded like a when a balloon has a tiny hole leaking air. A very high-pitched squeaking noise. But big people, women especially, had come to know that shrunken men only made that sound when they were in distress. Even if they were too far away to decipher the exact words.

Right before Jessy’s fingers made contact with Cameron, another massive hand zoomed in from out of nowhere and slapped Jessy away. Cameron, who was cowering, didn’t see this happen but heard the deafening thump of the two hands colliding. He snapped his head up to see that his savior was the goth girl he’d taken brief notice of minutes earlier.

“I don’t think he wants to go with you,” the goth girl said, walling Cameron off from Jessy with a cupped hand. She refrained from touching him though, seeing how scared he was.

Cameron tried to see past this stranger’s hand by jumping, her digits slenderer and longer than Jessy’s, but it was futile. Her four fingers on top of one another created a barrier that was easily 30 feet tall from his perspective. Even her pinky was wider than he was tall, and there were three more fingers stacked on top that were even thicker. The women were hashing it out, and she wasn’t letting him be a part of it.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?! I’m his girlfriend!” Jessy shouted.

“Oh, give me a break,” the goth girl said sternly, not raising her voice. “I heard everything you just said to him. Not interested in a relationship. Just interested in pleasing your girlfriend with kidnapped tiny men. Tell me, how many guys have you captured just like him?”

“You have no right to judge me! And who eavesdrops on conversations at the bar?! Mind your business and keep your nose in your stupid book!”

Suddenly a third voice rang out behind him. The female bartender. “Do we have a problem here?! Because I have no issue kicking you both out.”

“No miss, I apologize for…well, getting a little heated,” Jessy said.

“Fine. I’m gonna let you two cool down for a bit before I let you order any more drinks,” she said, seemingly forgetting about Cameron, who was still quivering in the shadow of the goth girl’s hand.

“No need. I’ll see myself out. I just realized what us girls were fighting over isn’t worth it. Not in the slightest. I’ll just pick up flowers for my boo instead.”

And with that, Cameron listened intently as Jessy’s shoes clacked on out of the bar. Almost as quickly as she entered his life, she was gone from it.

The sheet-white hand that’d been shielding him from the wrath of Jessy finally moved away so he could see the visage of his hero.

She was full goth, no doubt about it. And normally, he didn’t go for girls like her. But somehow, the look worked for her.

Just based on her longer face and more chiseled jawline and cheekbones, Cameron could tell this girl was a lot taller than Jessy. Her face was doused in a remarkably even layer of white makeup, covering any possible blemishes or imperfections. Her grayish blue eyes were inexplicably kind, which did a lot to reassure and calm him down. The whites of her eyes were practically the same color as her skin, making her black eyeshadow and long, dark lashes stand out even more. Her lips, just as black as the trim around her eyes, were positively plump. They were much fuller than even Jessy’s lips and were upturned into a relieved smile.

“Hi Cameron. I sort of picked up on your name from overhearing your conversation with Little Miss Succubus. My name is Aurora, but you can call me Rory for short. Are you OK?”

Cameron was still shaken up at how close he came to becoming a living sex toy, making it impossible for him to respond right away. Images of himself being used by Jessy and her girlfriend for years on end filled his psyche. 

“Sorry,” she started again. “I can see how afraid you are. Let me back up. I have absolutely no intention of harming you. You’re safe with me. I’m a bit of a people watcher and I’ve seen so many cute guys just like you get harassed in this bar. I’ve never seen a girl blatantly try to kidnap a dude though. Insane.”

Cameron pushed through the residual terror still coursing his veins and reigned in the courage to speak. And what came out was, “You think I’m cute?”

She did a quick glance away before looking back down at him with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I do. The moment that crazy girl set you down, I noticed you with your red flannel and jeans. And from that moment on, I was pretending to read my book. This might be completely out of pocket, but you reminded me of that burly lumberjack on the Brawny paper towels.”

He laughed harder than he would have expected to at her out-of-the-box reference.

“Oddly enough, I know exactly what you’re talking about! I’m flattered.”

“Well, you certainly perked up. A compliment from me and you stopped shaking like a leaf.”

He grinned up at her, almost forgetting that the nightmarish predicament he’d been in minutes ago. He liked her outfit choice as well. She had a black mesh top on over a solid black bikini top, which showed off her impeccably round boobs. They weren’t huge like Jessy’s or Victoria’s, but they were certainly big enough for a man his size to get lost in.

He was taking unnatural comfort in the company of this towering goth girl. Even though she was being somewhat talkative, he surmised that was only because of how small he was. He posed no threat to her. Despite that, he picked up on her more reserved nature. Her facial expressions — happy, apprehensive, flirty or otherwise — were measured. It was almost as if she was afraid to spook him by being too outgoing. Especially after what he just endured.

“So, I admit, me saving you wasn’t entirely altruistic. But I’d understand if you want nothing to do with another giant woman who’s telling you you’re cute. In fact, I probably should have just kept my mouth shut.”

“No, it’s OK, Rory. I know what almost happened could have, well, you know. But I have you to thank for stopping her from taking me. I so so appreciate what you did. I don’t think many other people would have done that, get in the middle of two people in public. So, thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” she gushed. “Now, as much as I’d love to sit here with you and talk, after the ordeal you just had, I think it would be weird and inappropriate. Let me help you get home, wherever that is.”

“Sure, on one condition.”

“What?”

“Let me take you out sometime next week.”

Her eyes widened, suggesting she didn’t expect that from him. “Oh, that’d be lovely. But don’t feel like you need to repay me.”

“I don’t want to repay you.”

“Sooooo, it’s a date?” she asked, with a tinge of hope evident in her voice.

“It’s a date.”

Chapter 3: December 8, 2028- First Date

Cameron and Rory’s chemistry only deepened when she took him home to Shrunken Spokane the night of the speed dating event. He sat inside her ear so they could maintain an audible conversation over the sound of her car’s engine. Keeping him in her ear was her idea, and as soon as she’d said it, she backtracked, saying she was self-conscious about how much earwax she may or may not have had.

“Won’t it be noticeable for you? It must be kind of gross to be in someone’s ear. I only suggested it so we wouldn’t have an awkward, silent ride back.”, she said, furiously cleaning out her ear with a tissue while he sat in her hand.

“Nah, it’s OK. I’m sure it’s clean enough.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“I never in a million years thought I’d ever say this but, I’d love to go inside your ear, Rory.”

She giggled uncontrollably at his eagerness. He got the sense that she hadn’t laughed that hard in a while.

Once he was in her ear, the two wasted no time carrying out a lively tête-à-tête with one another. They talked work, friends, past relationships and even some size politics. Rory was of the belief that men should be equal to women, which at this late stage of the virus was quite progressive of her.

In a few short years, after damn near all men on earth had shrunk, countries around the world began enacting a two-tiered system that placed the former fairer sex squarely in charge of all men and their tiny little butts.

In the US for example, men under a foot tall could no longer hold any federal, state or local public office. And it went further than that, with some women actively kicking men while they were down. Amid her run for the White House, the current female president was fond of blasting out ads with her two-inch-tall husband in a cage dangling from her neck. The tagline was always “men should be seen, not heard.” All of this got Rory surprisingly outraged.

“I mean it’s just crazy that shrunken guys have no one who looks like them legislating on their behalf!” Rory yipped, starting to get worked up. “Us girls were complaining that we had old white men making laws on abortion not even 10 years ago and now that the shoe’s on the other foot, we took all the power for ourselves!”

There was a lull in the conversation. Not because there wasn’t anything Cameron didn’t want to say. Not at all. He was just taken aback at her passion for his rights getting “trampled on” as she had said numerous times and was taking a moment to admire her conviction.

“Oh god, was I too loud? Did I scare you in there? I didn’t mean to get so animated.”

Cameron shifted around in her ear canal to let her know he was still there and in fact OK.

“I know you can’t see my face right now, but I’m actually smiling,” he said.

“Really? So, I didn’t offend you? I hope I’m not being too much of a height knight.”

“I’m not offended at all. And as much as it pains me to admit it, men like me need height knights. The only reason I’m anywhere in life now is because of tall, strong women that rescued me in sticky situations. And more men agree with me than you would think.”

“OK then, I guess I’ll continue fighting for the littlest among us.”

He could hear her grin, which made him smile like an idiot too.

When Rory arrived at Shrunken Spokane, she carried him to the checkpoint, which was staffed by the two overnight female guards, Cindy and Tracy. They were hard sons of bitches. Cindy was ex-Secret Service and Tracy was in the army. He was certain each of them could have kicked his ass nine ways to Sunday even at his old six foot three.

He’d gotten to know them decently well since he moved in, as it was their responsibility to receive him when came back from outside the complex. It was also entirely within their discretion whether they would release him into the custody of a visitor. Currently, Cameron’s mom was the only approved person, which he realized right at that moment, might throw a wrench into his and Rory’s upcoming date.

He, sitting in a crevice of Rory’s right palm, was way too far away to tell her that she ought to make a good impression on Cindy and Tracy. Her hand was level with her bellybutton, and his voice didn’t carry that far. He felt like a teenager again auditioning his new lady friend in front of his parents.

Rory greeted them warmly, and their response was icy.

“What is your name and which tenant are you escorting?” one of them asked. With them being so high up, it was hard to tell which one was asking the questions. Cameron stood up in Rory’s hand, craning his neck at the three female heads way up in the clouds. All he could see were protruding chests, necks and chins.

“I’m Aurora, and I have Cameron here in my hand. I don’t know his last name; I just met him tonight.”

“How did you meet him?”

“At a bar in town. I’m just dropping him off for the night.”

“Did he come with you willingly?”

Rory’s audible gasp suggested she wasn’t ready for that question. Nonetheless, she regained her composure quickly and answered.

“Yes, he came with me willingly.”

“What are your intentions with him going forward?”

Rory’s neck flared with striations, uncomfortable at the pointedness of the women’s questions. Cameron had the impulse to try and jump up and down to get one of the attention of one of the women, but he knew that that was fruitless. Rory was on her own.

“I’m sorry but, isn’t that a little personal? All I’m doing is dropping him off.”

Cameron, having studied the giantesses above him for more than a minute now, believed Tracy was the one to reply.

“And all we’re doing is our job, which is to keep him safe. Shrunken Spokane hasn’t had a single security breach since the community’s inception, and we aren’t about to let that change, ma’am. So, I ask again. What are your intentions with Cameron, who appears to be,” she glared down at him, “a half incher. As you can probably guess, based on his extreme diminutiveness, he’s among our most vulnerable protectees.”

Cameron realized that Tracy didn’t remember him, which didn’t surprise him upon further examination. There were thousands of men who lived in Shrunken Spokane.

“I understand. It’s just that, I’m not really sure what my intentions with him are yet. I just met him. I can tell you that we plan to go out on a date next week.”

“Which day?” Cindy asked.

“Honestly, we haven’t decided on a specific day yet.”

“Decide with him now, and we’ll happily release him into your custody for a date night,” Cindy said.

“I really have to decide right this moment?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison, and Tracy continued, “It’s imperative that we have a record of when particular tinies are being picked up by outsiders, especially outsiders they haven’t known long. As we’ve explained, it’s for their safety.”

With that, Rory’s attention shifted, with her massive snow-white face angling downwards at him. At the same time, she was slowly lifting her hand. Slow enough to tell him that she had experience handling tinies as small as him. That was because quick, sudden movements made shrunken men extremely nauseous.

In his case, it was a bit more serious than a little nausea. If a woman zipped him around in her hand fast enough, his body could experience enough G-force to instantly kill him. His family doctor told him about that harrowing reality at age 24 during his first physical as a half inch tall man.

“Am I correct in assuming you’re not a fighter pilot?” Dr. Vicky Davis had asked him all those years ago. “That’s the only way you’d be able to survive the 9G’s the typical woman is capable of generating on a body as small as yours.”

Rory certainly wasn’t putting him at that kind of risk, though, deep down, he knew she was capable of it. He didn’t know if she knew how fragile he truly was. On a commonsense level she surely had an idea, since she was treating him to a gentle, smooth elevator ride up to her eye so they could chat properly.

Once he was in line with the blue and gray swirls of Rory’s iris, she blinked a few times to wet her eyes. This inadvertently led to him getting thrashed by her formidable lashes. He staggered backwards in her hand, falling onto his butt.

“Oh my god, did I hurt you?! With my…eyelashes?”

He stood back up, this time a safe distance from the living flogs attached to her colossal face. He shot her smile; one she could see clearly for the first time since they met.

“I’m pretty delicate, but I can handle those things.”

“You sure? You dodged them like your life depended on it, hehehe,” she tittered.

“You just…caught me off guard is all.”

“As tiny as men are now, they still have a shocking amount pride,” she retorted with a raised brow.

He heard a snap in the distance. Both Cameron and Rory snapped their heads to the source of the sound, only to find the impatient faces of Cindy and Tracy staring back at them. It seemed that they weren’t going to allow the pair to flirt with one another all night.

“OK, right,” Rory remembered what they needed to do. “Does this Friday at six work for you? How ‘bout the classic dinner and a movie?”

“I thought a goth girl like you would have a more out-of-the-box date idea, but that works for me.”

“Oh, forgive me for not taking your ‘delicate’ little butt to a metal concert for our first date.”

“It’s all good. Maybe that’ll be our sixth date.”

“Wow! That confident we’ll make it to six, are we?”

Cindy and Tracy were silently ordering the two of them to quit their banter with their eyes, and they could feel it. Cameron decided to say goodbye first, not wanting to anger his protectors more than he already had.

“I have a good feeling about this, Rory. That being said, I better go.”

“Yes, OK. See you soon, Cameron. Text me when you’re safe in your apartment. Or, uh, don’t. I don’t know if we’re there yet…”

“I’ll text you, don’t worry.”

Even though her mouth was completely obstructed by the fleshy floor beneath him that was her palm, her smile was written all over her eye. He was still amazed at how expressive they often were on people up close.

Rory went up to the guards and touched her open hand with Tracy’s, giving the tiny man a bridge back to his home.

“Sorry for dilly-dallying with the little guy, ladies. I know you’re both busy holding down this fort,” Rory felt the need to say.

They said nothing, only waiting for Cameron to hustle across Rory’s hand to Tracy’s. He was running at full speed, wanting the awkwardness that hung in the air to dissipate as quickly as possible. And after his 15 second trek across a sweaty, nervous palm into a comparatively bigger, drier one, five impossibly huge digits encircled him like the canopy on a football stadium.

“Thanks for returning him, Aurora. We’ll be expecting you later this week.”

Friday couldn’t come any sooner. Cameron and Rory texted incessantly while they waited to see each other again.

Meanwhile, news of Cameron picking up a hottie at the speed dating event and leaving with her spread quickly. Ironically, they meant Jessy. None of them had seen Rory, and none of them were aware how close he came to being abducted by Jessy. Still shaken up by the events at the bar that night, Cameron put up his guard, withdrew from his friends and felt no need to correct their assumptions about his love life. He instead took comfort in Rory’s attention. Even if it was just in the form of blue text bubbles.

There were so many times throughout the week that he wanted to call her. There were also times he wanted to FaceTime her and show off his apartment. Little did he know, he’d get his wish.

On Friday evening, just as he was getting ready for his date night, there was a resounding thump on his window. He rushed out of the bathroom, not wanting to inconvenience Cindy or Tracy, one of whom were likely outside his apartment waiting to bring him to Rory.

But it wasn’t Cindy, nor was it Tracy. It was Rory herself at his window. Well, mostly her eye and a bit of her nose, which filled his view entirely, but he could tell it was her.

Still in shock, he hurried over to his window to open it for her. She stepped back quite a bit since she initially spotted him inside his humble little abode, giving him a more complete view of her face. And boy was she gothed up.

She was wearing a black choker with little spikes all around. Just seeing the shiny points protruding from her neck was enough to make him shiver.

Butterflies quickly accompanied his trembling when he laid eyes on her gorgeously huge, yet effortless smile. One that easily stretched as long as three of him, if not more. He smiled back, even though he was sure she couldn’t see it from where she was crouched.

This was the first time he was seeing her in broad daylight, and it made quite a difference. The sun’s rays reflected off her brilliantly white skin, making her look almost angelic. That is, if it weren’t for her lips and eyes, both of which were painted black.

Her hair too, was just as black as when they’d first met, though its style was quite different, which made him wonder if she’d gotten it cut just for him. Now, she had bangs curtaining her forehead right down to her eyebrows, whereas before, her hair was much longer and worn down and to the sides. Beyond that, she had a high ponytail that soared high into the sky and then back down into the seemingly endless strands below. She had such voluminous hair and so much of it that he was afraid that if he ever ended up on her head somehow that he would drown in it.

All these observations and more were racing through Cameron’s head as he opened the window to greet his stunning date. She leaned in closer, once again completely cutting off his view of the world and purred a hello. He, on the other hand, remained frozen and silent.

“What’s the matter, nothing to say?” she asked.

“Humanah humanah humanah comes to mind,” he said, staring at the one quadrant of her face he could see from this close up.

Her proceeding laugh sent shockwaves through the building. He’d never experienced an earthquake before, but he was sure that the rumbling sensation radiating through the floor and into his entire body was exactly how one felt.

She eventually noticed how unstable he was on his feet and asked what was wrong.

“Your laugh, Rory. It shook the whole building.”

She started to laugh again, but covered her mouth and did her best to stifle her apparent case of the giggles.

“Really? I hope I didn’t piss off your neighbors,” she said between fits of suppressed laughs.

“Well even if you did, what are they going to do about it?”

She started to laugh again but caught herself. “You little! You need to stop making me laugh until I’m at least a safe distance away from your building, jeez!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll try to dull my dazzling comedic talent for the time being.”

“You better, because if I laugh again, this entire building is coming down with you in it.”

After commenting on how homey and comfortable his apartment looked, Rory offered a hand. Excited and nervous for what was to come, Cameron carefully climbed the windowsill and onto her outstretched fingers.

She waited until he was safely in the middle of her palm before she attempted to engage with him again. When he arrived, he gave her a thumbs up. Upon receiving his signal, Rory sent her face careening toward him like an asteroid, causing him to trip and fall onto his back.

“Did I move too fast? Did I startle you?” she asked once his little voice was in earshot.

“A little bit, yeah. But don’t worry about it.”

“Sorry, I’m still learning. Now, before we go, do you mind if I put you on the ground for a second? I need to put on my special earrings, and I need both hands to do it.”

“Your ‘special’ earrings?”

“You’ll see. Now, do you mind? I’ll be really careful.”

“OK, just…put me in the roped off area.”

Rory dropped her gaze, probably a bit disappointed that Cameron didn’t fully trust her not to take a wrong step and crush him to a pulp. In the end, she seemed to understand and complied with his request.

He enjoyed the way down, getting to see more of her slender, lithe body than ever. He normally didn’t see any woman as slender, given that all of them were exponentially bigger than him now. Rory was the exception. Her daintiness was still apparent despite her obviously superior size. For instance, her clavicles and upper ribs were showing beneath her delightfully thin black shirt. The skintight top, which was extraordinarily low cut, pushed her boobs up and out. He imagined her trying to stuff her tits into it and failing.

Not wanting to spring a full boner right away thinking about her exceptionally large breasts, he focused on her bare legs. He had a prime view of them from the knee down since Rory was still on her haunches. As her hand moved closer to the ground, he watched intently as her legs just kept going. It was almost inconceivable to think that at one point in his life, he was likely taller than her. Now, he was in her hand — the length of a basketball court to him — being placed on the ground next to her, whose legs, heel to knee, were as tall as the Statue of Liberty. And that didn’t even account for the rest of her legs, or the rest of her body, all of which were even longer than the one part of her leg.

She was impossibly gigantic. Just like every other woman but somehow not. Yes, she was huge, but she was friendly and respectful and approachable in a way no woman post-shrinkage had ever been to him. They were refreshing qualities in a woman, and he was amazed at how seriously she took him despite their yawning size gap.

Of course, when Cameron actually touched his feet down to the grassy earth and left the comfort of Rory’s hand, suddenly “approachable” wasn’t the word he’d describe her as. Especially when she stood up. Comparisons to the Statue of Liberty no longer did her justice. She was more akin to the average New York skyscraper or perhaps the Eiffel Tower. And he was akin to the tourist dumbly gazing up at her stunning majesty and beauty. The major difference between her and a skyscraper was she had a tight little ass that wasn’t doing a good job of hiding itself underneath her mini skirt. And instead of having fancy revolving doors, she had feet that were jammed into open-toed black stilettos. Standing about twenty feet from her heels, he could tell that he wasn’t even as tall as platform of her shoe in the front.

It was hard not to feel inadequate in the face of a being so clearly superior to him. As he fell into a trance marveling at the goddess before him, he thought back to their conversation in the car ride home last week about politics. It occurred to him that her rant about how men should be equal to women was fabulously idealistic. And while he appreciated her sentiment, he understood that men simply couldn’t be equal to women anymore. Women had to take the lead for the sake of humanity’s survival, and the law that banned tiny men from holding office was just a recognition of that reality.

He wondered right then, looking on at her pinky toe that dwarfed him and outweighed him ten times over, if Rory thought he or a man as small as him with political ambitions would be as effective of a leader as a woman. Any woman really. Or if she thought he was capable of great things, or even mediocre things.

If she did, maybe she was the perfect woman for him. A natural counterweight to his own skepticism of his human worth.

Before he knew it, her hand was back on the ground, ready to pick him up. She used a come-hither gesture with her pointer finger that he did not ignore.

It was hard to underestimate the length of time it took just to pick Cameron up. Altogether, from him climbing her finger to running into her palm to lifting him in a safe, controlled manner, it easily took 60 seconds. Just so the budding pair could speak to one another.

“So, I know we talked about my disdain for the president’s shrunken man cage ads, so please forgive the irony of what I’m about to propose,” she said.

“I’m listening.”

“Do you see the earrings I’m wearing?” she asked, pulling back her thick black hair to reveal them. They were strange looking. Not at all like earrings he’d ever seen. Instead having a cute little something dangling from them, they had a cage that was attached to the piercing and was situated unusually high. It was right next to the ear canal.

“Yeah, I see them.”

“OK, well, I really enjoyed our conversation in the car, and I thought it might be a little less awkward for us if I found a better alternative than putting you in my ear. That’s where the earrings come in!”

It clicked with him suddenly. He was going inside one of them. So, she could hear him.

“I take it from your expression that you understand where I was planning on putting you?”

“Wow, you can see my face from there? Good eyes. And uh, yeah, I put it together.”

“Are you OK with it? If not, I can put you in my ear again while we’re in the car. Though, I’d rather not.”

He remembered how uncomfortable she was with him being in her ear, so he relented.

“I can go in your earring. It’s no problem.”

“Have any preference on which side?”

“Do one of your ears hear better than the other?”

She giggled, though more reserved this time now that she knew her laughs had the potential to shake a building from its foundation. “Touché, little man.”

After asking for permission, Rory grabbed him by the shirt with shocking precision and lowered him inside the earring cage. She then closed the top, sealing him in with no hope of escape. Realizing he was trapped in an enclosure big enough to hold a dozen men his size was a sobering thought. Even more sobering a thought was that his prison was attached to a human woman’s ear, hundreds of feet of the ground.

Thankfully, he could see out, so it wasn’t claustrophobic in the slightest. It was actually quite the change in perspective. Before she turned her head, he got a glimpse of his apartment building from what was basically her normal vantage point, and boy, did it look a hell of a lot smaller from up there.

“Shout if you’re OK!” she yelled, shaking him from his thoughts.

“I’M OK!”

“Fantastic,” she said as she casually walked through the grassy fields of Shrunken Spokane toward the entrance. “And we’re off, Cameron!”

***

Like Rory said, they were off. And Cameron was along for the whole ride. She graciously tucked her hair behind her ear so he could see everything she could see. For the first time in years, he could actually see out the windshield of a car and watch the road disappear underneath him. He almost cried remembering the freedom of owning and being able to drive a car.

The two arrived at their chosen restaurant right on time for their reservation. They’d picked it because they were one of the few places in town that menus catered to shrunken men as small as him. Still, he was worried there would be a problem since men his size didn’t usually go to restaurants.

They, well really Rory, walked up to the hostess’ desk and told her of their reservation for two.

The lady briefly looked around Rory for another person before understanding the situation and smiling warmly. “I take it you’re accompanying a shrunken man. No worries at all. We have accommodations for men of all sizes. Where is he on you?”

“He’s, uh, in my earring actually,” Rory said, lightly tapping the bars that kept him nice and safe and nice and confined.

“Mind if I say hello? I like to acknowledge all our patrons regardless of their size.”

“Knock yourself out. He’s a half incher so it might be hard to hear him. His name is Cameron.”

The hostess wasted no time in dominating all the available space in front of him and saying a sickeningly sweet hello.

“Nice to meetcha, Cameron! I promise you that we will be on top of your every need, big and small. All you have to do is ask! Or, I guess, get your lady to ask for ya since it’ll be a bit of chore to hear your little voice.”

Cameron, not knowing what to say or do, just gave the beaming lady a thumbs up and hoped she would go away.

Once Rory got to the table, she took off the earring he’d been residing in for the past half hour or so. She gently placed it, with him still inside, on the table and popped the top lid, allowing him to crawl out. A few feet in front of him, he saw a perfectly scaled table and chair. As he approached his seat, he ran his hand along the edge of the table and appreciated his flawless place setting. The plate, the silverware and the glass were even more naturally sized than the ones in his apartment. It turned out the hostess wasn’t kidding when she said this place accommodated men of all sizes.

Upon sitting down, Cameron got his first view of Rory, whose surging feminine form was all encompassing. As in, if he looked all the way left or right, it was impossible for her to not be in view. He imagined what her view of him must have been like. It was probably like looking at a stray M&M or something.

But for him, she was a veritable mountain range that ate up his entire horizon. And she was sitting down. Nonetheless, he didn’t have his handy dandy raised platform like he did at the speed dating event, which meant that his gaze gravitated to her upper midriff instead of, well, her eyes. Her eyes may as well have been on the ceiling because he had to crane his neck that far to see them.

He was so focused on her bigness that he almost didn’t notice that she was rummaging around in her purse underneath the table. Clutched between her fingertips was a miniature stand that held a microphone.

“For me?” he asked, before remembering that she couldn’t hear him at this distance.

As she placed it down in front of him, bending the arm so the mic was directly in front of his mouth, she explained, “I bought off Amazon the other day so we could communicate from a distance. I’m wearing the matching earpiece right now. Say something so we can test it.”

“Testing, testing, does my voice sound squeaky?”

“Phew! Thank God it works! And no, your voice sounds very…masculine. No need to worry.”

“So, you’re telling me I don’t sound like Mickey Mouse?”

“If we’re talking Disney, I gotta say, you sound a whole lot more like Kronk than Mickey Mouse. You know from—”

“The Emperor’s New Groove? Yes, I’m very much familiar.”

After an unexpected three-minute-long Disney tangent fizzled out, Rory and Cameron were left with nothing but themselves and their menus on an incredibly unusual date. The two cycled glances at one other and their menus for quite some time. Eventually, absent a peep from the giant wall of woman before him, Cameron posed the first real question.

“So, I have to know…why me? Why when you could easily pull a dude much bigger did you decide to go out with me?”

Her belly receded inward as she sucked in a huge breath, slightly exposing her some of her ribs. This only reminded Cameron of her slender figure, which was doubly amazing given her quite sizable breasts. She really hit the genetics jackpot.

“You want the real answer or the sugarcoated one?” she asked rather bluntly.

Cameron wasn’t sure he could handle the unvarnished truth this early in the process. “Maybe a mix of both?”

“I’ve been dating guys that are exclusively bigger than you. I think the lowest I’ve gone is to maybe a six incher and the highest was two feet tall. You have to understand, finding bigger men that don’t have an ego problem is nearly impossible. It’s like they think they’re the new upper class because they tower over guys like you. They then seem to forget that I am double their height and would kick their ass without even trying. Not that I want to do that, but wow are some of these dudes full of themselves. I’m not interested in that anymore.”

Cameron could tell she wasn’t done, but their waitress interrupted to take their drink orders. Not wanting to make things difficult for the staff, he ordered a water. Rory got a glass of wine.

“So, as you were saying…”

“Right, yes. I was beyond sick of these mini alpha males not seeing the irony of acting all macho in front of me. I wanted to find someone who was not so up his own ass and someone who wanted to carry on an actual relationship instead of using a date with me to get brownie points or tend to their wounded ego after being shrunken.”

Their drinks came, and Cameron was once again blown away by the unbelievably meticulous lengths this restaurant went to to make sure his experience was as normal as possible. A perfectly sized glass filled with ice cold water was gently set in front of him. Opposite him, of course, a 12-story-tall stemmed glass swirling with more red wine than he could ever hope to drink was rocketed down on Rory’s side of the table.

The two had a cheers from a distance, each taking a sip. He couldn’t help but glance up at the ungodly amount of liquid tumbling from Rory’s glass into her gaping mouth. These were the types of things he’d never get used to.

Even Rory putting her glass back down on the table sent shockwaves through the wood that he definitely felt the full force of. He’d have to get used to that and not get shaken out of his seat every time she took a drink.

“So back to my ego being fully in check,” Cameron said, wanting to get the conversation on track before the waitress came back to get their food orders.

Laughing at his sarcasm, she continued, “Forget about all that ego talk, OK? I’ve been sorta avoiding your question until I got some wine into me. And I, uh, can’t believe I’m about to tell you this, but the real reason I decided to go out with you is because I was jealous seeing you and that Jessy girl chatting it up. I almost never get jealous, let alone jealous of not getting a stranger’s attention.”

“Really?! You were jealous?”

“Sure was. And then to hear that she wasn’t even into you and was planning to use you, God it made me so mad! Believe me, little guy, I wasn’t going into that night hoping to meet anyone. But you changed all that.”

All throughout her tirade about the evil woman pretending to be interested in him and her own growing feelings for him, Rory’s hands slid across the table closer to Cameron. So close in fact that her index fingers were flanking him on both sides. With him in a seated position, her fingers rose far above his head.

Touched by her words, Cameron extended his right arm and rubbed the side of her finger with his hand. From his angle, he couldn’t see her up to her nails nor could he see any of her other fingers besides her pointers. Again, he found himself overwhelmed by her bigness, prompting him to ask another question.

“Can you feel me?”

He craned his neck up and seeing her lips stretch into a smile gave him the answer he was hoping for.

“Of course, I can feel you. It’s nice. It kinda feels like an earthworm or a lady bug’s little feet on my skin.”

Instead of saying something to ruin the moment, he kept rubbing and grinning up at her until she pulled away.

There were lots more conversations after this, most of which were far more low stakes than the opening talk they had about why they were even here. He blamed himself for having the date start that way.

After their orders were taken, a bowl containing what had to be an entire loaf of bread cut into several pieces was set in the middle of them. The server apologized to Cameron, saying they didn’t have any appropriately sized bread portions. Well, more accurately, the waitress conveyed her apologies to Rory, the only one of the two capable of audibly talking back.

“You heard that, I assume?”

“Yep, no bread for me.”

“Uh, not so fast. Don’t pout. I will rip you a little itty-bitty piece.”

“I wasn’t pouting.”

She giggled. “I beg to differ. But I refuse to let you go without this,” she paused to take a massive bite, “delicious,” another bite, “airy,” another bite, “perfect piece of bread.”

Cameron’s cheeks heated up. He was flattered by her over-the-top concern for him. He muttered a sheepish thanks, which she acknowledged with a hair flip and a show-stopping smile. He had been ready to forgo the bread, but inside, he was overjoyed to eat the same food as a big person for the first time in months.

It took at least a dozen tears before she presented him with a suitable piece, and even still, it was a bit big. She’d even drizzled a drop of salted olive oil on his plate so he could have an authentic experience. His mouth watered as he dipped his crustless piece into the green pool on his plate. But biting into it was even better.

Something he’d taken for granted his entire life — Italian bread with olive oil — was now a delicacy.

“Ohhhh,” he said with his mouth full. “This is so good. Haven’t had this in ages. They don’t sell bread like this at the supermarket I’m stuck with. Thank you, Rory.”

“You are very, very welcome. Happy to help.”

Rory’s kindness extended into the main course, where she graciously fed him tiny pieces of her meal from her plate. He got to have wonderfully cooked steak for the first time in years. His mother usually didn’t bother cooking red meat, especially after he shrunk. So, this was a real treat for the little man.

And Rory seemed keenly aware of that. After feeding him what had to be his tenth miniscule piece of her steak, she had something to say.

“Enjoying yourself over there?”

“Oh my god, yes! Sorry if I’m neglecting you over there, it’s just that, this is so so good.”

“Oh, no need to apologize, little guy. This is all part of my master plan.”

He chuckled. “Your master plan?”

“You know what they say, right? The way to man’s heart is through his stomach. And I didn’t even have to cook for you!”

Sensing the mood shifting in a very obvious direction, Cameron came up with his own flirty retort.

“I’m sorry to say little lady, I’m a bit more complex than that. It’s gonna take more to woo me than some steak that’s, mmm, melting in my mouth,” he said amid a bite.

“This ‘little’ lady knows exactly how to woo you. Just you wait.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

She leaned down to get a better view of him, and the two swapped pining glances for a long while. She practically had her chin on the table, and he was seated normally, getting lost in all her individual pillowy black lips and her soothing sapphire eyes.

Eventually her beaming lips broke the silence, “I hope you don’t mind me getting this close. It’s just that I feel like this is the first time I’m getting a really good look at you. You’re so, so small.”

He took this opportunity to stand up and strike a goofy body builder pose. “Do you like what you see?”

Stifling a giggle they both knew could send him careening off the table, she nodded her head yes. He dropped the act quickly, knowing that he had to man up and compliment her in kind before the moment passed.

He got up from around his table and walked closer to her face. Wanting to get an even better view, she’d rested her head on one side, so her eye was level with him. His heart skipped a beat seeing the way she was looking at him.

“Rory, before I lose my nerve,” he said as he walked forward toward her eye, “I just wanna say that I think you are so beautiful. You have such a gorgeous smile, and you have your own unique style that you’re confident in. I find that super attractive. Just don’t come too close to me with that collar of yours, I don’t want to get impaled on one of the spikes.”

“That is so sweet of you to say, Cameron,” she said, though with her vastness, he couldn’t even see her lips moving in his peripheral view. “And I promise, you won’t be anywhere near my choker. If you want, I can take it off if it makes you nervous.”

“It actually does make me nervous, but it’s also kinda hot. I’m having trouble squaring those two things.”

“Really? It sounds like little Cammy might have a submissive streak.”

“Maybe, though it’s probably out of necessity. Being like this,” he gestured to his smallness as he continued to move ever closer to Rory’s eye.

“I have to know, how tall were you before? I want to know because I’m pretty tall for a girl. I’m five foot ten.”

“I was six foot three. We woulda been a hell of a power couple back in the day.”

“Undoubtedly,” she giggled yet again.

Now just inches away from Rory’s eye, he stood almost in a trance watching her pupil study his miniscule body up and down.

“You really are very handsome. I bet you used to get a lot of attention.”

“You know, I’ve been getting that a lot.”

“Don’t get too big of head on those little shoulders.”

“I’ll try, it’s just hard with you complimenting me nonstop.”

Apparently not knowing what to say to that, Rory stayed silent and continued gazing at him. He, on the other hand, couldn’t believe how well this was going. He decided to praise her yet again.

“I appreciate that you have your head down on the table so we can talk a little easier. I hope you’re not embarrassed to be like this. I feel like other people have to be wondering what you’re doing.”

She didn’t hesitate to show her confidence, “If the other people in this place think I’m weird for taking out a tiny man and properly conversing with him, then screw them.”

“Thanks, Rory” he said, crossing his arms and putting his head down, again overwhelmed by how self-assured she was. He didn’t think he had a shred of the courage she had even when he was full-sized.

As much as the two wanted to keep staring at each other, Rory’s belly eventually grumbled. That reminded them that eating was the second reason they were there. Rory picked her head up off the table and Cameron trekked back to his own table to finish his meal.

Soon enough, they polished off their plates and Rory likewise polished off her second glass of wine. Their empty plates and glasses signified to the waitstaff that they were ready for the check, and that was the first thing they argued over.

Cameron, being stuck in a time where men took women out, politely offered to pay. Rory countered that she was the one to really initiate the date, and that she felt she should pay.

It went back and forth for a while until it was Cameron who finally relented and allowed Rory to take care of the entire bill. He was truly afraid that he’d ruined his chances with her, but she seemed delighted to pay for the two of them. Maybe times really had changed while he was exiled on the shelf.

Before he knew it, he was back inside Rory’s earring, and they were on the way to a movie. Not having the faintest clue what was in the big people’s theater, Cameron had no choice but to trust whatever she chose.

At the ticket window, he again offered to pay but to no avail. She reminded him that she was taking him out, in front of the ticket booth attendant no less. The girl was more than a little confused that Rory was seemingly talking to herself, not knowing her companion was housed millimeters away from her ear. And probably even stranger for the attendant, Rory only bought one ticket despite clearly talking to someone. Someone completely invisible.

It turned out Rory wanted to see a horror movie. Specifically, a Christmas-themed slasher. The holidays were fast approaching after all.

“You sure you can handle this?” he teased from inside her earring as she walked to the concession stand.

“What? The movie? Of course, I can. I think? I don’t really see horror movies that much, but I picked this because nothing else looked good.”

“Just promise not to crush me in your hand when there’s a jump scare, OK?”

“I promise, little guy. I promise. Is there anything you want foodwise?”

“For me? I think a kernel of popcorn’ll do.”

She giggled, “Comin’ right up!”

It didn’t take long for Rory to get situated in her seat, which was unusually close to the screen. This, he assumed, was done for his sake because he knew that his tiny eyes wouldn’t be able to see the screen from the back of the theater. While he appreciated it, he was hoping for a bit more privacy, which the higher rows afforded. Honestly, he couldn’t care less about the movie. He cared about getting to know her.

Once he was back in her hand and out of her earring, she took out a cotton ball and placed it next to him.

“It’s for you to rest your head on. I felt bad that you wouldn’t be getting a normal seat,” she told him.

“Don’t feel bad at all, Rory. This is way better than a regular seat.”

“Hehehe, I’m glad! Do you want your popcorn now? I want to get this all out of the way before the previews start. I know they reduced the volume in theaters a couple years back to accommodate tinies, but I still don’t think I’ll be able to hear you when they start playing stuff.”

He thought about it. Any piece of popcorn she gave him would be over half his size if not bigger than his entire body. Either way, he’d be able to nibble on it for the entire runtime of the movie while she went to town on the bucket.

“Sure, I’ll take it now.”

Her hand descended into the popcorn bucket like a crane and out came a single piece, hanging from her fingers. With complete precision, she lowered it right next to Cameron but in a spot that it wouldn’t obstruct his view of the screen.

The coming attractions played for about fifteen minutes before the movie finally began. As the opening credits rolled, Cameron gave a brief glance upward only to see Rory’s eyes glued to the screen.

As the movie’s cast of soon-to-be-murdered characters were being introduced, he started wondering if a movie date with a giantess had been the best idea. The whole point of movie dates back when he was big was to initiate touching and closeness with whichever girl he decided to bring. That wasn’t really possible as far as he could tell. Sure, he could crawl around her hand and try to get her to feel him massaging her, but that didn’t seem the least bit sexy to him. A tiny little man worming around on a girl’s hand. It screamed desperate and pathetic.

So, he opted to actually lie down and watch the movie, while hoping Rory would initiate something. Though those hopes only served to make him realize that he was taking on quite a passive role in all of this. It felt wrong and right at the same time.

He shoved his conflictedness down to the depths of his stomach and attempted to focus on the movie.

It had a bit of a slow start. Several friends were renting a ski house days after December 25th. They began to hear ominous ho ho ho’s from the fireplace. It was dreadfully obvious where the plot was going, but Cameron was having fun watching it. The actresses were nice to look at and the men along with them, all of them above three feet but no taller than four feet, were competent enough actors. As a sidenote, men shorter than three feet were essentially blackballed from Hollywood since most female audiences didn’t want to see leading ladies converse let alone have romantic interactions with men approaching the size of small children.

The first camera shot of an evil Santa with bloodshot eyes came roughly 30 minutes into the movie. He was standing on the snow-covered roof and staring down the chimney with complete disgust. Why? Cameron didn’t care. He’d already decided that the shortest guy was going to get the axe first.

And right he was. The group of friends were playing charades in front of the toasty fireplace, and when it was shortest guy’s turn to do an impression of a basketball player — which got a laugh from the characters and the theater audience including Rory given that in a few short years, the NBA had transitioned into an all-female league — he was unceremoniously dragged through the flames and up the chimney with Santa’s reins.

Cameron laughed, and Rory jumped. It was noticeable, but her hand stayed surprisingly still. Her other hand came down to pet his head, as if to ask him if he was alright. He squeezed her finger pad with as much strength as he could muster to convey that yes, he was just fine.

Things took a turn for the worst when on screen, the shortest man’s smoldering body was dropped back through the chimney and into the fireplace igniting the flames once again. This jump scare was apparently too much for Rory. Her hand spasmed underneath him, throwing Cameron straight into the air. He flailed and thrashed, unable to control his ascent at all. And when he felt himself reach the apex of his flight, he looked down. He realized he was above Rory’s popcorn.

Cameron didn’t exactly breathe a sigh of relief, but he was no longer convinced he was headed toward sudden death. He plummeted down into the sea of salty kernels and made a rough landing. He didn’t sink into mass of popcorn, simply because he was so weightless that he didn’t displace any of the individual pieces.

Before he could regain his bearings, an unbelievably bright light shone in his face. He couldn’t figure out the source because the harsh rays blacked out everything around him. At first, he thought the projector was broken and somehow pointing down at him. A bit of quick thinking dispelled that notion, which only left one other possibility.

Rory was trying to locate him with her phone flashlight. And that hypothesis was confirmed when the other moviegoers began openly complaining to her and telling her to shut off her phone.

“Cameron!” she yelled in a hushed tone. “Are you OK?!”

He jumped up and down waving at her. “I’m fine!”

She didn’t hear him over the movie but saw him moving. Instead of sticking around, she walked out of the theater with him still on top of her popcorn.

Out in the well-lit, quieter hall, Rory lifted a butter-soaked Cameron out of the popcorn and closer to her face so they could converse.

“Are you OK?!” she asked once again.

“Yeah, I’m OK. Really, I am.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible! I mean, you could have died! I just feel awful!

“It’s OK, Rory. Your body made an involuntary movement. You got scared. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Listen, I know you’re just saying all of that to make me feel better. I’d understand if you never wanted to see me again. I promise, I’ll take you home, and I won’t touch a hair on your head.”

She began crying, which attracted the attention of others. But he didn’t care about that. All he wanted was to convince Rory that they could get past this admittedly pretty fucked up situation they’d both endured. Yes, he could have died, but she would have been the one who would have had to live with the fact that she accidentally killed him.

“Rory, Rory. Listen to me. Did you know that my mom almost dropped me the first month after I shrunk all the way?”

Through sniffles and tears, she said, “No.”

“Well, she did. And if I hadn’t caught myself, I probably would have died. I was mad at her for a couple of days, and she kept profusely apologizing. Eventually, I realized that I needed her, and I forgave her. She never made the same mistake again.

“What I’m trying to say is, I need you Rory. Or just someone in general. I hope it’s you because I like you a lot. I’ve been a hermit for years after I got this small. Moving to Shrunken Spokane was the first conscious step to break free from that. And going out with you was the second. If I wasn’t willing to accept the risks of being with a person as big as you are, I wouldn’t have gone out with you and I would have stayed holed up in the sausage fest that is my building.”

She took a break from crying to let out a laugh at his last comment. She was still holding him up to her teary face.

“I know you’re going to make mistakes sometimes with me. But I want to try being with you anyway. Please forgive yourself, and let’s move on from this. I’m still here. I’m a strong guy. I’m a trooper. I can take anything you throw at me. I will say, you and I are banned from watching horror movies together though.”

Again, she laughed and this time, she decided to hug Cameron to her face. That meant pushing her finger pad into her cheek with him on it.

“I promise, promise, promise, promise that I will be super careful with you from now on. And I want you to tell me when I’m doing something…risky or unnecessary. OK?”

“Yes, I will,” he said with a muffled voice.

“Good,” she said, breaking the hug and lowering her hand so he was in her view again. “So I guess we’re not going back in to finish the movie, huh?”

“Nope,” he said. “And here I was, really looking forward to the climax.”

“Hey! I liked it.”

“Yeah, a little too much, I think,” he said, gesturing down to the butter that was still drenching his clothes.

“Touché, little guy. I really want this date to continue, but if you want me to take you back to your apartment so you can shower and go to bed, I’m fine with that.”

“No!” he yelled, before realizing how desperate he sounded. “You can just run me under some water and dry me off. I want to keep talking.”

“Oh my god, great! I know a great little café down the street that’s open late and serves dynamite Tiramisu. It’ll be perfect for us to just talk.”

“Sounds amazing. Take us there, Rory.”

“Say no more, Cameron.”