The weekend passed slowly. On having their suspicions confirmed, Clara and Poppy were full of the same questions Harry had been asking himself:

“How small will you get, Dad?” “How quickly are you shrinking?” “Will we have to look after you?” the excitement was evident in their voices, rather than the concern he had expected. This was a unique situation and one they were clearly revelling in.

Sophia insisted on hourly check-ups so they could keep track of how quickly he was wasting away. Thankfully this seemed to be a reasonably slow process; nonetheless, by Sunday night Harry stood at only five foot one, a mere inch taller than 13-year-old Poppy.

“Will I still have to listen to you when I’m bigger than you, Dad?” asked Poppy innocently at dinner that night.

“Of course, darling. I’ll always be your father – and besides, you should always listen to your elders” he said, feeling a touch of dread about his daughter’s line of questioning.

We’ll see about that her eyes seemed to say, but she nodded sweetly and went back to playing with her food.

As he drove to work on Monday morning, Harry asked himself if continuing life as normal was the right thing to do. He worked in a ruthless environment with many people who might not think twice about using his situation to their advantage.

Arriving early so as not to draw attention to himself, he set to work and soon began to slip into a rhythm, putting his troubles to the back of his mind. He managed to stay at his desk until late morning when his longing for a coffee got the better of him. As he prepared a cappuccino over in the kitchen, Emily approached him cheerily.

“What’s happened to you then?” she said, jumping straight to the point.

“What do you mean?” he shot back, immediately on the offensive.

“Your height, silly. Everyone’s talking about it - you’re about a foot shorter. Do you normally wear massive platform shoes or something?”

He sighed. Seeing no option but to come clean, he told her all about his weekend.

“No way” she stood, open mouthed at his story, before regaining her composure. “So you’re going to be looking up to me all the time now? Here I was thinking it was just metaphorical.”

He laughed, calming down a little. “Luckily they’re looking for a cure at the moment. I’m sure it won’t be long.”

“Pfft” she scoffed “be honest with yourself Harry, it’s not likely they’ll find one it is? I mean, you said it yourself, this has never happened to a human before. Think how many people have cancer and there’s still no cure for that. You’re at the back of the queue.”

His heart dropped, she was right; he was going to have to get used to what his future held. She went on, lowering her voice as the conversation took on a more sinister tone.

“When you’re the size of a bug, I’ll come looking for you. I’d love to have a little man all to myself. You and I would have a lot of fun Harry.”

Thoughts of a giant Emily having her way with him were too much. Casual fantasies of an office fling with her were one thing, this was on a whole new level. He looked down and to his horror realised he was rock hard.

Mortified, he turned and shuffled his way awkwardly to the bathroom before locking himself in a cubicle and holding his head in his hands. Just as he began to calm down, without warning his hands started to shake and he felt the uncontrollable shivering once more. To his dismay, he could actually feel himself shrinking this time.

Harry realised he had to get out of the office before things got much worse. He needed to be safely at home with Sophia and the kids if the process was to start speeding up.

Bursting out of the bathroom, he swiftly grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk and made for the exit. Turning to look over his shoulder as he fled, his eyes were drawn to Emily as she grinned and gave him a sultry wink.