Mira always starts her days the same way. she wakes up, lounges a bit too long in bed on her phone, makes herself eggs, oatmeal, or a bowl of cereal, takes the pills that give her breasts and smooth skin, showers, and brushes her teeth. Then, she makes her models.

In her workshop, Mira has an impressive display of bonsais and miniatures. A tiny idyllic farmhouse along a river of real water, cycled under the table by a pump. Tiny juniper bonsais frame the house and a thin layer of artificial groundcover makes even the grass look scale-appropriate. Mira makes her living in commissions, with a successful online store and her own webpage. If she didn't have to buy food, she might never go outside. She is as self sufficient as one can be in a cozy one bedroom 

The only category of miniature she doesn't sell are people, but not for lack of skill. Inside the tiny farmhouse, barely visible through the window, is a stunningly lifelike copy of herself, with a full range of motion in its joints. She has made countless copies of these, back to the days where she wore her mousy hair short and hid herself behind baggy t-shirts and jeans. She is more afraid of throwing them away than she is of someone discovering her secret.

Mira sighs as she finishes her first commission of the day, a custom job of a classic brick well. She wonders if the buyer will notice the paint blending wrong on the inside edge, but comforts herself in knowing that only she would care about that level of detail. Shutting her eyes, Mira does something as natural to her as it would be strange to anyone else. She lays on the ground and goes motionless, then wakes up in her tiny wooden replica. Whether this is a power unique to her or a product of her craft, she isn't sure, but Mira is afraid that selling anyone elses likeness could mistakenly send them into a body they didnt intend to be their own. She has had enough experince with that not to wish it on anyone.

Mira considers the feel of occupying her newest model. The wood, while expertly painted, is still very stiff to the touch. Structure is important for safety, but there's always room for improvement. Maybe she should learn to work with silicone, though painting on it may be difficult. 

Mira idly runs her hand along the smooth area between her thighs. Once, she took comfort in the ability to escape what was there on her human likeness, but now it just feels sterilized and inert. genitals seem like a nightmare to carve into wood, let alone a new medium. a problm for another time.

Mira returns to her human body, her hand moving in the dream-like interim to match where the dummy's was. Lately, she has felt less disgust towards her penis, its male-signifying nature lost over time as she isolated from society. Especially compared to her wooden counterpart, it continues to provide her with pleasure that cannot be found in a smoothed-over groin. She glances at the clock. 11:02. She has time.

Turning over onto her side, Mira looks out across her miniature landscape and inhales deeply as she slowly massages her shaft. One day she will be able to do this in a way that's not so large and messy. When she perfects her model, she can truly be in a world of her own, a perfect world, revelling in her craft. Mira moans as she feels herself become erect.

Sometimes she thinks of disappearing into her dummy full-time, but is dissuaded by thoughts of family, friends, and the work she has put in to be comfortable with her own flesh. Her thoughts turn to the physical, intangible pleasure she is feeling, and her mind goes blank.

But oh, doesn't it just get so lonely?

Her body tenses and releases. She looks empty-headed at her damp hand. I'm going to smell like this all day, Mira thinks. She gets up, washes her hands, changes into a summer dress. She comes back in and removes the roof from the tiny house, extracts the doll, and sets it on a chair outsise. It's almost time to buy groceries.

Mira is driving home with a girl she barely knows. She is short, red-haired, pudgy, and irresistably adorable. Mira feels self-conscious, with a bony frame that just manages to pass most days, pale skin, and dull straight hair. This is a prank, it has to be. Any second, this girl Rosie's friends will probably cut in front of her and torment Mira like the freak she is.

"Stick of gum?" Rosie rips open the plastic wrapping and turns to Mira with a thin foiled strip held up. Does she think I smell bad? Mira wonders. She nods, takes it, smiles, tilts her head in the way she does to show how much she's not overthinking. Mira doesn't usually like mint, but this one has sweet tones that feel strangely fitting for the moment.

Mira had needed help finding dry lentils, if they were in stock, and a little human interaction struck her as a good idea anyways. She made eye contact with a girl stocking the shelves and waved her down, after watching her perhaps a beat too long. 

"You seem familiar, you usually come this same time of week?" Rosie had asked. Mira didn't think anyone would have noticed her, though she did tend to stick out like a sore thumb given her height.

"Every other, usually," she replied. "I tend to stock up a bit."

"I can see that," said Rosie, raising her eyebrows at the nearly full cart. 

Rosie then followed Mira around the store, helping her find the rest of her list while being surprisingly personable. "That dress really suits you. Have a favorite cereal? What do you do for a living?" Mira was surprised at her willingness to answer the stream of questions. She told Rosie all about her model business, her tiny farmhouse, the comfort it brings her to have everything 

carefully managed.

"It sounds beautiful," Rosie said at the checkout line, which she had taken the liberty of opening to get Mira through quicker. "You wanna give me a tour? My shift is about to end anyways."

And now they are in Mira's workshop. Rosie had insisted on helping put away groceries despite not knowing Mira's organization system. Mira sits in the rolling chair to shake off the feeling of towering over Rosie. She invited herself over, Mira reminds herself. I didn't trick her into anything.

"Aww, is this you?"

Mira looks up, flushed, to see Rosie turning her tiny lookalike in her hands. She fidgets nervously, imagining herself being examinated so thouroughly.

"Is this the sort of place you'd like to live some day?" Rosie asks

"Something like that." Mira shifts her gaze to the paint cupboard in the corner. She can't stop picturing how easy it would be to swap her consciousness to the doll, even for a brief moment, and feel Rosie's giant, gentle hands caressing her.

"What about this on the table, need groundwater for your dream home?"

Mira stops bouncing her leg and scoots the chair over to her worktable, happy for the change in subject. Rosie steps aside with her hands held politely behind her back.

"No, just a commission. Someone wanted a centerpiece for a medieval market square."

For a while, Mira describes her process of shaping, gluing, and painting each individual piece, and Rosie watches with genuine interest. Admiration, if Mira could be that charitable to herself.

As the sun starts to fade into twilight, Mira moves to turn on her lamp when Rosie, who is now seated text to her, interrupts.

"I should probably head out, i just remembered I was meeting someone for dinner tonight."

Mira realizes she has been rambling for nearly an hour now and winces before facing her guest.

"Of course, I've taken so much of your time already! Do you need a ride there?" He asks.

"No... no thats alright!" Rosie stammers. "I'll walk, she lives close."

"Oh, ok." Mira is startled by her own disappointment.

Rosie presses a stick of gum in Mira'd hand. "We should do this again sometime."

Once she is alone, Mira lies in bed and looks at the wrapper, just now seeing the phone number etched into it. She sighs and places it on the bedside table. with all she told about herself, she hardly learned a thing about her new friend. Instead of wrapping up work for and changing into more comfortable clothes for the day, she decides she needs something smaller, more dependable, and closes her eyes.

Mira doesn't wake up in the farmhouse.

She cant see anything, and wonders if she missed the doll entirely and ended up in some sort of liminal space, until she feels her mannequin joints creak. reaching for her surroundinga she feels... canvas? Maybe leather? Specific textures are hard to tell, as her hands aren't as pliable in this form. She clambers across unknown shapes until she one sinks down like a pressure plate and blasts a blinding light across her face. She adjusts to the light only a moment fades, but its enough to make out the illuminated phone screen, a wallet, a set of keys, and a pack of gum.

Mira is being stolen! Or, her figure. The line is hard to tell but regardless she knows she has to swap back and catch up to Rosie before she gets too far. away. Mira goes still and wills herself back.

But it doesn't work! Maybe it doesn't work from too far a distance? In that case, Mira knows she has to make a break for it before its too late. She doesn't feel hunger when small, but she knows her body won't last too long without someone in control of it. She makes several attempts to stand and frequently topples before realizing the bag is zipped shut, and will not open from the inside. Too much motion is probably a bad idea anyways. Mira lies back down on her side, so frustrated she would cry if her wooden body let her.

Finally, the bag comes to a stop, unceremoniously tossed onto a soft surface. The ring of keys bludgeons against Mira's head, causing her considerable pain. A moment later, light streams in between Rosie's fingers like sunbeams through clouds. She grabs her phone and brushes a finger against Mira's dress. The giant hand pauses and turns to her. Mira's body goes stiff, then limp when she remembers Rosie doesn't expect the doll she stole to be animate. Luckily, she doesnt seem to notice the brief reaction happen. Rosie brings the doll up to eye level, and Mira feels the same exposure she did when she watched this same interaction from the side, only now it is magnified to an intense degree. She thanks her inability to speak for hiding her deer-in-headlights panic, and curses it for bottling her fear without a release.

"What was I thinking..." Rosie says. "Of course she'll realize its missing."

She sets Mira on her unmade bed next to her bag and swaps her for the cell phone.

"And I didn't even get her number first... I guess I'll just wait for her to call and tell her it was an accident..." Rosie sits down by the bed and rests her head to look at Mira.

"I can't believe I chickened out like that. Really got ahead of myself I guess. I am really sorry for taking you," she says. "It's a bad habit of mine... I hope she's not mad at me. Ugh, I haven't even gotten out of my work clothes yet." An idea flashes across her face, one that curls up her lips and sets her eyes to a soft glow.

"She said something about waterproof paint, right?"

Mira doesn't move an inch, even as Rosie slides the straps of her dress off and chuckles at the paint on her chest.

"She could have just left you blank, goes to show her eye for detail! I bet she made them a bit bigger than hers too." Mira had in fact added roughly a proportional cup size, but more due to oversight than conscious choice.

Rosie sets Mira on the sink and starts running hot water for a bath. Mira knows that warm water can't wash off how dirty she's about to feel. She cant turn away as Rosie slides out of her jeans and button-up, as she unclasps her bra to reveal breasts larger than Mira's whole body. As she lifts Mira to her cheek and plants a light kiss across her whole head. Mira can feel her warm breath, smell its sharp and sweet aroma, the lingering saliva.

Holding Mira to her chest, Rosie lowers into the tub. Mira can feel the softness of her skin, practically sinking into her chest. Between that sensation and the pleasantly warm water, it should feel like heaven. Instead, all she can think of is how she shouldn't be here, how perverted she is. She could have broken her illusion of lifelessness the moment she knew this was going to happen. Is she really trying to hide her powers, or did she just want to watch this girl she just met as she lathers down with soap, her hair tyed up to keep dry as she sinks into the heat? The current starts to drift Mira downwards and Rosie snatches her back, pressing her across her left breast. Mira finds her face pushed directly into Rosie's nipple, and her body bounces with Rosie's soft chuckle.

"Oh, Mira..." Rosie muses, "Would you forgive me if you knew?" She holds the doll at arms length and sets her down to float again. She runs her hands along her body to rinse off the soap and stands, towering like a goddess above Mira. Unable to turn away, and briefly too mesmerised to consider doing so, Mira is awestruck by the titan's silhouette against the overhead light. she is envies and covets Rosies hips and thighs, the neat tuft of hair between them. Water runs down her form like rivers and estuaries, her shoulders mountainous. When she leans out and reaches her palm out to grasp Mira, she feels like she briefly understands angelic grace

And then she remembers that sooner or later, she will have to come clean.

It is 1:56am. Mira has not showered, brushed her teeth, taken her estradiol, changed for bed, or turned off the lights. She hasn't even locked the door. Instead she sits on Rosie's nightstand, sharing the space with three glasses of water at various levels of completion, some scattered mail and recipts, a digital clock, and a lamp. She doesn't have to sleep, though she wishes she could. Life altering decisions, she has found, are worth sleeping on when that luxury allows. 

Instead, she sits and watches Rosie rise and fall with the heavy breaths of sleep. Despite her putting Mira in this situation, transgressing her boundaries and disrupting her routine, Mira can't muster any anger towards Rosie. It has been so long since anyone took such a genuine interest in her. This was by design of course, not being noticed is always the safer option. Maybe thats just what she told herself to avoid the ordeal of making herself appear interesting.

Anyway, Rosie took interest in Mira and her work, enough to want a piece of it for herself. She really seems kind at heart, even if her judgement is somewhat lacking. Even Mira's own dysphoric inner monologue can't deny that Rosie has taken a real shine to her. How long could that relationship really last, though? No one could know what they were getting into at first glance. Mira has too many secrets, too many things she has never told a soul. It would be irresponsible to thrust herself upon anyone, no matter how willing they may seem.

Doesn't it just get so lonely?

Mira curls in her knees and hugs them to her chest. They are cold, lifeless. Just an empty husk trying to convince itself of its humanity. To be so alone right next to someone who feels so real is unbearable. If Rosie woke up to find Mira cradled in her arms, would she think she had put her there herself? Is that selfish, manipulative, hopelessly desperate? Mira wonders all this as she finds her bearings on the soft mattress below her feet. She gazes up at the wall of Rosie's back, her hair falling across the pillow. 

The questions grow quieter as she works her way towards the pillow, replaced by the pragmatic problem-solver. How do I get around her? Mira treads carefully, bracing herself against the headboard and praying she doesn't get any of Rosie's hair caught in her joints. She makes it across with barely a sigh out of Rosie to indicate a disruption. Mira waits, knowing that Rosie could open her eyes at any moment, then starts working her way down. She ducks under the blanket and finds Rosie's arms folded up to her chest. Mira feels a pang in her heart, the intense desire to be held flooding back to her. She moves quickly, knowing that now she just has to get over Rosie's arms. If she can do that and go limp again, she might not be caught in the act.

She leaps and dives through the gap between Rosie's forearn and the blanket, falling into a fast but comfortable landing against her chest. She stops and presses against Rosie's t-shirt. For a moment her fears are droned out by the reverberations of Rosie's heart. Mira can feel it coursing through her like her own blood.

Suddenly, Mira's world becomes less defined. Rosie turns over in a flurry of fabric. She lazily tosses the blanket off her chest and peers at Mira with the half-open eyes of sleep. 

"Climbing into bed with me...? Sure... I don't mind..."

Rosie runs her finger along Mira's back, holding her tight as her other hand reaches down under the covers.

"Oh Mira, how bold of you on our first date..." Rosie croons. Mira becomes acutely aware of her lack of lungs, her inability to hold or release breath. She wants to channel her anxiety somewhere, but to do so would be damning. She feels close to bursting. Rosie shifts with pleasure, looking straight at Mira with lips slightly parted. She pulls the doll close, places her lips around her face, glides her tongue gently across. Suction forms as Rosie kisses her, and Mira almost feels she will be pulled further in. 

Rosie releases her oral embrace and whispers, "I could use some help down there, love..." Mira is drawn down, down past the covers. She feels the heat, smells what is coming. She can't. It's too much. This isn't right.

Mira grasps firmly onto Rosie's hand. She kicks, would shout if she could. She watches Rosie's hand withdraw from her panties, both hands coming out into the open. Mira sees the hand across from her. It glistens slightly in the moonlight. Mira turns away as Rosie sets her on the bed and reaches over to turn on the light. She regards Mira with a squint. She reaches a finger out and Mira reaches back.

"AH!" Rosie yelps and pulls back. "What the fuck are you?" Mira moves her hands as if to speak, but cannot. She adjusts by simply looking down, putting both hands to her heart, and looking back up.

"Yourself? Like... is this remote controled or something? You have a camera in there?"

Mira shakes her head and repeats the gesture more emphatically. Rosie blushes deep and tucks her dirty hand behind her.

"I don't understand but... I should really bring you home, shouldn't I?" Mira nods, relieved. Rosie looks at the time. "I guess I wouldn't be able to sleep anyways."

---

Before she has adjusted to the form of her real body, before she can process words and even in the split second before she opens her eyes, Mira is hungry. She sits up, Rosie in her chair next to the bed wearing an expression appropriate for seeing an animate doll exchange its mobility to a human host. Patting Rosie on the shoulder and mumbling something about being right back, she pours a bowl of cereal and demolishes it. She then immediately grabs some sleepwear and goes to the bathroom to change, closing the door a little too hard. She dumps out two tiny blue pills and dry swallows them, pulls off her clothes. There is a knock at the door.

"Mira? Are you ok? I'm sorry I-"

"It's not your fault!" Mira says a little too loud, "I just need a moment."

She wets her toothbrush, making eye contact with herself in the mirror. She can't talk to Rosie yet, it's too much too fast. She doesnt usually have to talk to people like this. Rosie says something and for a second Mira doesn't process it. She thinks she can guess what it was though.

"Yes, of course-"

Rosie swings open the door. Mira is wearing nothing but her boxers, toothbrush hanging limp from her mouth. Rosie stands frozen in motion, her hand still on the doorknob. She hadn't asked if Mira was ok, she asked if she could come in.

-I'm fine..." Mira finishes lamely. 

Mira sits with her head in her hands on the floor next to Rosie, now wearing her fuzzy pants and a t-shirt. "I'm sorry, I thought you were asking if I was ok again..." If she had waited only a moment longer she would have realized Rosie was asking if she could come in and talk. Now Mira looks even more perverted, spying on Rosie in secret and then exposing herself unprompted. She has thoroughly dashed all hopes of a normal friendship. Tears form behind Mira's eyelids. How could she have been so stupid? 

"So..." Rosie says after an uncomfortable pause. "Boxers, huh?"

"They're just more comfortable to sleep in," Mira says flatly.

Another pause. At least she was wearing something. Rosie laughs nervously.

"Man, I really dont feel like walking home this late..." she says. Mira raises her head.

"I can give you a ride, if you want." The least she can do is be helpful, undo some of the damage she's caused. Rosie looks over, head or her knee so her face is barely visible behind her hair.

"I dont know... I'm getting awfully tired. Could I maybe... spend the night?" She asks. Mira hesitates for a moment.

"You could borrow my bed for the night, I'll just sleep on the couch." At least she can be an accomodating host. Mira only hopes the use of her bedroom doesn't seem to intimate.

"Oh no, don't sacrifice your bed or anything, I'm used to crashing on couches," says Rosie. Damn it. Too forward.

"Alright," says Mira, "I'll get you a blanket."

Mira doesnt check the time, but is must be around 3:00am. An itch in her brain tells her she will wake up late tomorrow, but it isn't enough to move her towards sleep. Instead, she traces the wall back and forth with her hand, kicks at the footboard, and keeps flipping the pillow to its colder side. Maybe if she stays awake clean through the night, she can get back on track ans not mess up her circadian rhythm too badly. Sometime probably near 3:45, there is a light knock at the door. Unsure of what to say, Mira gets up and opens the door part way. On the other side stands Rosie, still wrapped in her blanket.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," says Rosie.

"Don't worry, I couldn't sleep." says Mira.

Rosie shifts her balance slightly forward.

"I just couldn't stop thinking about earlier." Mira hopes her blush isn't obvious in the dim light.

"Yeah, god I'm sorry about that. I should have listened before responding. Awkward, huh?"

"No, I mean before that. I don't quite get it... but you were in that doll, right?" Mira wants to deny it, but she can't add "liar" to her list of offenses.

"Yeah it's... just something I can do I guess." She can see this conversation is going to take a while and opens the door further to gesture at the bed. 

"You want to sit down?"

Mira explains her ability to Rosie, how she uses it to calm down or to add details to her work that she couldn't at full size. It's difficult to start, but even harder to stop. She can almost forget the events of the day, the closed room becoming a bunker from apocalyptic thoughts. Until Rosie makes a precision strike on it.

"Hold on, hold on. So, you still see and hear and feel everything like normal when you're small, right?"

Mira slows her speech hesitantly. "Yes... I mean, mostly the same. Textures and sounds a a little more flat or vague but..."

"And you said it stops working after a certain distance?"

"Well I think so, at least that part's kind of-"

"So you definitely saw everything that happened today." Mira hides her face and falls back on the bed.

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry, I just didn't know how to tell you, I didn't mean to spy or anything and, I didn't-"

"It's okay."

"What?" Mira props herself up against the wall and Rosie turns to face her.

"I don't mind." Rosie says. "Did you feel abused, invaded?"

Mira thinks for a moment. "No, I felt like the one invading."

Rosie climbs over Mira and leans in to kiss her. Mira's eyes widen and she raises a hand to stop her, but Rosie presses it down and pulls back.

"You saw what I thought of you up close. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. But this time I get to ask if you want it."

Mira grabs at the mattress as she stares at Rosie's expectant expression. No more lies, she thinks.

"Y, yes but-"

Rosie tugs her up by her shirt and silences her with her lips. Mira's arms shake slightly as she raises them around Rosie's back and holds her tight.

"Take it off." Rosie instructs. And she does. Not too long later, her own follows. Rosie's breasts are full and unapologetic, while Mira's are still uncertain, uneven, and small. Rosie's touch reminds Mira of how far she's come to have them, awakening a pride that washes out her need to compare and self-depreciate. Rosie throws her down against the pillows and makes eye contact as she grabs the hem of Mira's pants.

"Wait, I have to tell you something." Mira says. Rosie is patient, but doesn't move her hands.

Mira stammers, "I... I'm trans, Rosie, I have a-"

"I know what it means, don't worry." Rosie tugs and Mira shuts her eyes. In a flash, Rosie is back on top of her and doing something incredible as she kisses Mira's face all over. What did she mean by that? Why did she go along so smoothly? Did she know? What outed Mira to her?

"Your skin is so smooth..." Rosie remarks. Mira moans and clutches her sides. Her head is spiraling, she needs a moment. The walls are closing in. God, this feels amazing. It shouldn't. It does. Mira wants to disappear, to shrink down until there's nothing left, she doesn't deserve this, she-

Mira is on the bedside table, where she was before she went back to her body. The first thing she sees Rosie fucking her. She seems genuinely excited by it all, breathing heavily with a look Mira can't quite define on her face. Adoration, awe, reverence? Any word she chooses feels too generous. Rosie slows down and appears puzzled, then worried.

"Mira? Mira are you ok?" Rosie gets off of Mira and puts a hand to her head. She even goes as far as to check her pulse before it occurs to look at the smaller, wooden girl next to her.

"Oh my god, are you ok? Was it too much for you? I'm so sorry..." She scoops Mira up and runs her fingers along her.

"Did I go too far?"

Mira shakes her head no.

"Are you ok?" Mira wonders the same. She felt good, but there was something bothering her. Something that doesn't even occur to her when she's like this. She nods yes.

"Do you want to take a break."

No

"You're sure?"

Yes

"Ok, well, come back when you're ready then."

Mira looks as coy as possible, looking away and holding her hands in front of her.

"What are you...? What does that mean? You mean..."

Rosie raises an eyebrow, amused.

"Oh. Only if you move your body out to the couch or something."