The scent of flesh was unmistakable. It surrounded him and invaded his senses just as closely as the flesh that entombed him had. It was a terrible thing, Steven had never really been a big fan of feet, even soft, sensual female feet, like that of Iliana’s would never rank very high on his list of attractive features. However, at such a tiny size, the intricacies that created the divine silkiness of human flesh were moreapparent than they had ever been. Distaste of feet and all, there was no avoiding the truth, the sole of Iliana’s foot was a sight to behold on a level Steven had never considered.
Encountering its wrath was, unfortunately, quite the opposite. The curvaceous swells of her arch might have provided a temporary sanctuary, but there was no avoiding the terrible might of its step. The sole must have stretched out for miles beyond Steven’s sight. Had he not been oppressed so harshly under it, he’d have contemplated the just how long it would have taken him to scale such a height, or traverse it on foot. These considerations would have made his spine tingle, the thought of spending hours, if not days wandering the deserted landscape of a woman’s arch, climbing in and out of each minute line that created her foot and toe prints.
It had only been a single step, and Steven’s mind raced to find something to divert his attention to, if only to keep his sanity. No such thing existed; he was as much trapped in his own mind as he was trapped in Iliana’s slipper.
The kitchen was only a few, short steps from her bedroom. It was one of the reasons Iliana had chosen this apartment above the other choices. There was nothing more discouraging than waking up late at night, wanting a sip of water, and knowing that getting it meant walking all the way to the other side of the apartment. This set up meant that the brunette would hardly have to open her eyes to navigate into the kitchen, should that situation ever arise. It was by no means a requirement in house-hunting, but it would be severely appreciated when the time came.
After her short jaunt to the kitchen, the two in one heroine and antagonist of our story turned to grab that near-empty box of Cap’n Crunch (no berries for her), and shake it lightly, listening in anticipation to hear enough cereal bits bouncing around for a full bowl of breakfast. If it wasn’t full enough to satisfy her hunger, she’d try a different cereal, and save that for a mid-day snack. However, the box sounded to be just barely large enough to soothe her appetite, and after turning to the opposite side of the kitchen, she retrieved a white-porcelain bowl from the cabinet. Below it, she opened the silverware drawer, took up her favorite cereal spoon (which was only ever used for cereal, and maybe ice cream), and carried the trio to the table.
Finally, she needed the milk. As she took the necessary steps to reach the kitchen, her lips parted and emitted a yawn, which was covered by her hand. That same hand went to open the refrigerator door, reach for the milk, and pause. Noticing the level of the milk was below the requirement for a good bowl of cereal; Iliana cursed herself for being as lazy as to skip going to the grocery store on the way home yesterday. Sighing, her fingers drummed a few times against the fridge door, just as her eyes caught sight of the non-dairy coffee, un-flavored coffee creamer. It wasn’t as tasty as the 2% milk, and had a lot more calories and fat, but could certainly work if she combined the two. Shrugging, she grabbed both containers and headed back to the table, where she assembled the necessary ingredients, and prepared the cereal.
After milk, cereal, and creamer had all combined in the bowl, Iliana stirred the cereal together and dipped the spoon in for a first bite. She had anticipated a slightly different taste, and preparing for it, crossed her fingers, mentally, while crossing her legs physically, allowing her slipper to balance on her toes, off of her heel. Here goes nothing.
Steven had found himself fighting consciousness. The first step had been so terrible that he had considered burying his face into one of those tree-like slipper fuzz strands and suffocating himself, so that he would not have to endure another. He was not given the time to consider the option though, as the foot landed with harshness onto the ground again. His body screamed in agony. Though he was smaller than most bugs, he was still too large to ignore the impact of the woman’s step. Her foot threatened to impact his lungs and crush his organs into each other, but that same pressure also prevented any movement on Steven’s part. This meant that his body was not able to be crushed in that way, there was simple nowhere for the parts to move.
Steven was finally granted his temporary vacation from consciousness however, and the duration of Iliana’s breakfast preparation was only experienced on a subconscious level. Luckily for him, he stayed unconscious until Iliana was sitting, leg crossed over the other. He awoke to see that familiar sole lording over him like the sky. With the heel of the slipper dangling so lightly at the goddess’ toes, the artificial light of the kitchen allowed Steven to see his predicament again. He was lucky enough to have stayed embedded in the slipper fuzz of the shoe, staring up at the oceanic wall of flesh that had only moments ago threatened to crush him.
His body was throbbing, and he was sure that he was bleeding internally somewhere. Surely a few ribs were cracked, and a finger was broken, but he was alive. His second encounter with Iliana’s body had nearly killed him, but here he was, experiencing life again. Steven grinned, trying to shift to an upright position. This turned out to be a mistake however, as his body screamed at him for being such a terrible protector of it. Steven quickly shifted back into a resting position, sighing.
Above, he could feel the lightly sensation of Iliana’s slipper bouncing against her toes. It wasn’t much, only a light tilting of her ankle, or maybe shifting of her toes. Both were far out of sight, but he imagined that her toes would have dwarfed anything he’d seen before. He could even hear the groaning of the shoe’s fabric as her toes wiggled inside of it, surely causing anything trapped within their powerful grasp to be ground into dust, and lost between them, until Iliana showered again.
And as he thought about those things, Iliana, almost as if in response, wiggled those toes again, attempting to move the slipper further onto her foot, before it fell off. She couldn’t quite move it into the position she needed though, and so instead, allowed her ankle to shake the entire foot left and right vigorously, hoping this second attempt to re-position her footwear would succeed.
For Steven, though, once plastered to the insole of the slipper, it was all but the worst thing she could have done. He was violently thrown from his position and tossed into another, landing on his chest. Screaming in pain, he attempted to grab one of those furry trees that made up the insole, but only found himself careening, along with a few other near microscopic bits of dirt and dust, towards the heel of the footwear, and a sheer drop to the kitchen floor, thousands of feet below.
There was little he could do, but close his eyes, and pray to every deity that he could think of to take him to heaven, or at least some alternative, more peaceful existence. With eyes closed, he was more aware of the burns against his flesh from sliding so harshly against the thick foliage of synthetic fibers. When he reopened his eyes, things had grown a bit darker, and ahead, where he expected to see the outside world, and a cliff leading to his death, he saw an unmistakable wall of flesh.
Damn slipper, it just didn’t want to stay on! Iliana, trying not to get annoyed with something as petty as her own footwear, set her spoon down and reached towards her slipper, grabbing it at the heel, and pulling it back securely onto her foot. Problem solved, she sighed, and lifted her hand back up to the table, but instead of going for her spoon again, her hand continued its ascent. Frustrated with the tastelessness of her breakfast, the bombshell brunette ran her fingers through her hair in contemplation. Meanwhile, she had unknowingly deposited Steven, her greatest admirer, and tiniest friend, into the jungle of brown hair on her scalp.
Steven himself was unsure whether to celebrate his freedom from her footwear, or panic at the even more vast world that he was lost in, deep in Iliana’s hair.