Lydia’s Small World

Work had wound down that afternoon, and Lydia’s shift was coming to a close. The mall was kind of dead, but it was cold out. Her heels made a clack noise on the tile as she walked back out front of the Victoria’s Secret. She took a survey of the crowd, and spaced out a bit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone she vaguely recognized. Tim. He was in a play she helped with a long time ago. She talked with him online a bit.

He was lost in thought, it seemed. He had a fake suede blazer on, a dark blue shirt, and grey jeans. Over his shoulder he had a case--probably a camera case.

She’d seen the look he had before. The “I’m walking past the Victoria’s Secret shop, and I don’t want to seem like a perv” straight-ahead, eyes on on your own paper stare.

“You just gonna walk past without saying “Hello,” are you?” She casually said, right over his shoulder.

He stopped in his tracks, and spun toward her...and looked slightly up. She did have her heels on. She liked being a bit taller than people, especially older guys.

“Oh, Hi! Lydia! Wow. Good to see you!”

“It’s been a while. What brings you here? You don’t seem like a mall type.”

“I grew up with them. I kind of miss them. Well, I miss the glory days of them.”

“Are you ripping on my place of employ?” she asked sarcastically.

“I would never. In fact, I was going to stop in later and get myself some Pink sweat pants.”

“Get you a discount, bud.”

“Rad. Well, I have a meeting. There’s this place opening in one of the Anchor Store’s spaces that shut down. Called “Small Wonders.” They wanted to use some of my giantess artwork to promote their store.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, it might be fun to get paid to do what I love.”

“And do what is your kink.”

“Ahh, yes. I did admit that to you. But, you know it’s not just about that. There’s a whole aesthetic to…” Tim gestured at Lydia, and then pointed up. “...To the whole, tall woman aesthetic.”

“Oh I agree. It would be fun to give being a giant lady a try someday. I think it would be cool.”

“Say the word! Well, say the word after it warms up a bit. I’d love to do a shoot with you.”

“I’ll have to get even taller heels…”

“And, on that note...I’m going to go. I’ll see you online.”

“Bye!”

Tim walked off in the distance, able to look up again, not having to avoid awkward glances at mannequins with bra and panty sets on them.

***

The rest of her shift went by uneventfully. She clocked out, and left the store. It had been a while since she got a cinnamon roll, so she stopped by the best smelling store in the mall. As she waited, she wondered about that Small World place. She’d never heard of it. She knew they were putting something in the place at the end of the mall, but not sure what.

She grabbed her little box of cinnamon roll bites, and started walking that way. As much as she loved her heels, they were getting a bit uncomfy, and a bit warm with her stockings. She looked forward to kicking them off. She popped her heel out of the shoe, for a bit of relief, and put it back in and started walking.

The Small World store was still under construction, it looked like. There was a temporary facade, nondescript drywall, and the like, she had seen every time a new place came into the mall. There was a door over to the side. She jiggled the handle, and it opened.

She wondered if Tim was still in there. She cautiously entered, wondering if Tim was still in there.

It was not well lit. But it looked cool from what she could see. A glass storefront hinted at what it contained. She tried to quietly walk in, something her heels were dead-set against.

What she saw as she moved in was a bunch of miniature things. They were awesome in their details. A range of vehicles, buildings, and tiny objects. She always loved stuff like this!

She cracked open her box of cinnamon rolls, and grabbed one out. She carefully separated it from its peers, making sure to get a fair share of the cream cheese frosting on it. The frosting separated reluctantly, leaving a gooey strand. A lot got on her fingers. She nibbled the tiny roll in half as she looked around. She got up to a counter that had a display case. Only a few things were in the display case. A small hotel, it looked like, a little bus, and an incredibly tiny cruise ship. It was barely as big as her fingernail. She leaned way close into it to see better. Her long, brown hair cascaded over one of the building models as she looked up at the cruise ship. She popped the rest of the roll in her mouth as she stared in awe. She licked her fingers off as best she could. And then she grabbed the tiny ship off its mount. She set her box of rolls down as she looked.

***

It was chaos on The Princess of the Sea. It had been cruising along the Caribbean in bright daylight, when the light got intensely brighter, then suddenly almost pitch black. The almost 3,000 people ran to the windows or looked around on deck, and what they saw made no sense at all. There was no water around them. Huge objects loomed overhead. The only light source was a rectangle a few thousand feet up. And, next to them, far in the distance...were buildings.

They collectively pondered this for a while. The main group who booked a tour was a huge conference of so-called Men’s rights activists, which is fancy talk for misogynists. That group wasn’t too bright to begin with, and prone to conspiracy theories. So, the speculations flew.

Their chaos was interrupted as loud clicking sounds shook the boat. The sounds seemed to come all around them, but as they got louder and the shaking got more grand, they could tell it came off their port side. What they then saw was hard to comprehend. A figure moved toward them. It must have been miles across, and they had no idea how tall. It was a bit blurry. Mainly a field of black, with lighter columns under it.

Soon, it clicked, as impossible as the site was: It was a black skirt, with a short hem, and two monolithic thighs. That was about all they could see.

From the heavens a huge box fell. It was brightly colored. The smell of cinnamon surrounded them. Then it rained...kind of. Long brown strands of shiny, silky ropes wider than any person on the ship fell to the shelf below and tangled around a little building. Then, the sight of the skirt was replaced by a white blouse, and a brief glimpse of skin, protruding from the top of the blouse, and then...an eye. It was bigger than the ship. It bore down on them. They could see the pupil contract, and expand, and it looked as it might eat them, itself.

A hurricane buffeted the ship, knocking a few off the deck. The source of this wind was an eye blink. The lashes seemed to come dangerously close to the ship, though they were a few hundred feet away.

When the eye returned after the lid’s retreat, they saw the deep brown iris even closer, with bus sized gold flecks. The beautiful, gargantuan eye froze time as it considered them. Perhaps the thing that drove it home for most of them, that cemented their new place in this world, was their own ship’s distorted reflection in the eye. Complete with her fingers pinching them.

The eye retreated, and they breathed a sigh of relief.

That relief was short-lived as long, delicate fingers, with shiny, red polish zoomed toward them. As the pointer and thumb came to them, they saw a glossiness to the fingertips. Standing water, several feet deep were on the fingers, along with white hills that smelled sweet. The hills may not have even been perceptible to the owner of the fingers, but to the little people they would take a while just to climb.

With a deafening crunch, the fingers pinched the boat.

***

Lydia looked at the tiny ship quizzically. Could she detect movement? She got down on the boat's level as she leaned over. Yes, her fingers still had some cinamon residue and probably some frosting and a bit of her spit, but no one was looking (that she knew of) so she had to pick the miniscule ship up.

As she grabbed it gently, she felt it bend a bit. It stuck to the pads of her fingers. She turned it slightly in her grip, rotating it upside down. Part of the boat cracked off, and fell below onto one of her cinnamon rolls.

She looked on, not phased by it much, but kind of bummed. Without thinking, she increased her grip on the boat, and it pressed flatter than any aluminum foil ever between her finger tips.

“Ooops!” she whispered.

She opened her fingers, and it stuck to the pointer. She tried to scrape it off with her thumb, and it too landed on the cinnamon roll.

“I paid too much for this thing to waste it.”

She scooped up the roll, with the boat, thousands of unseen people and looked at it. The boat was embedded in the  frosting. She smiled and bit off half of the roll, and barely noticed the boat on the half of the roll. In fact...she enjoyed it. She couldn’t taste it much, but she thought, what if this was a real boat with real people. Fun to imagine. It would be a bit sadistic to do to actual little people, or would it? I mean, do you care if you step on ants? And, after all it was just fantasy. She let her tongue dab at the rest of the frosting and wreckage, and tasted it a bit more, since there was less in her mouth to dilute it. She rolled it around on her tongue. Savoring it.

Then tossed the rest in her mouth. And licked off her fingers.

****

Out the windows, the swirls of her finger prints were all they could see. Above on deck, the tiny people held on for dear life but were thrown into the pads of her fingers, and stuck to them. The sweet cinnamon and spit mixture melted slowly off her fingers and started filling the deck, and several busted port-holes and cracks in the ships, trapping passengers within.

The ship rolled in this goddess’s grasp, and many of the passengers fell below. They would have splat on a hard surface, but fell onto a 100 foot thick frosting blob.

The stress was too much on the ship and it broke in half, and 1200 people more fell out of the ship.

The remaining several hundred looked out the gaping hole in the ship, happy they didn’t fall, but their thoughts were silenced as the hull closed around them instantly. Their screams cut short, and they crushed.

Below, the people mired in the frosting looked up, and up, and up as the ship was crushed by the omnipotent, feminine fingers. The fingers could have been all-powerful gods themselves, but they were attached to a woman, even more unfathomable in height, and power.

As fingers playfully balled the ship up, way in the sky, it plopped down on them, leaving a comet trail of debris, crushing a few dozen, and sending tremors the rest felt.

Many hoped the ordeal was over, but most knew better. The fingers came down for them. Many were crushed on the sides of the roll, thinking they might escape. Some more survived, but were stuck to the deific fingers. Their stomachs once again felt like a jet taking off as their world rose. Their world was a cinnamon roll, not even a full sized one! And the next sight that filled their view was a pair of lips. The lips loomed on their horizon, deep red-purple, glossy, and hungry! They couldn’t see the very edges of them. Just the center.

Another Hurricane of sweet breath nailed them, a brief sigh from her. Most were mired hopelessly in the frosting but a few dozen flew off. Most landed on her chest, and stuck to her skin, many slid down her cleavage, waiting to be crushed. Her heartbeat and her breathing noises were a constant reminder of their impending doom.

For the rest on the roll, the thousands of people looked as the tongue licked those lips, and the mouth opened. They headed toward it. Teeth almost bigger than the ship loomed over them. Light was cut off as half of the people saw the glistening interior of the woman’s mouth. The teeth gently came down, and outright crushed a hundred people. The rest were pulled inside the darkness the rest of the way.

Had they been on the ship, perhaps they would have stood a better chance of the sea of spit that roiled around them. Many treaded water and feared drowning, as typhoons rose above their heads. But drowning wasn’t their fate.

The monolithic tongue deftly maneuvered them to molars that crushed them, and they were swallowed.

The survivors stared on in shock. The tip of her tongue came out and scooped up a few acres of frosting and about 500 people. Slowly, playfully, the tongue claimed them in her mouth. Some stuck to her glossy lips, thinking they escaped the fate of the others.

The hot, humid mouth took more time to savor the crowd inside it. The water level did manage to drown a few. Some were crushed against the roof of her mouth. And the rest were swallowed whole, to wind up in a hot, unforgiving place.

The survivors on her lips were on a roller coaster as she moved her mouth around, enjoying the fate of the tiny people inside, though she did not know it.

Her playful tongue swiped them in greedily too, as they clung to her lips. Most were crushed.

The rest of the roll was tossed in her mouth, ground to nothing and consumed.

***

Lydia was a bit blissed out eating her “imaginary” tiny people. She wondered about a dark impulse like that lurking in her, but thought, no harm in discovering it, and indulging it.

She grabbed her remaining rolls and walked deeper in the store.

In addition to her clacking heels, she heard a crunch as she stepped on something.

What now? She thought.

She looked down, and on the floor, sprawled out, right by her toe tip of her left pump. It looked like...could it be...Tim? But he was only about 3” tall.

She was that close to stepping on him! And she did step on something. He looked so real. That’s impossible. Was he OK, if so?

She wiggled off her right pump, and felt the cool air hit her hot feet. She flexed her toes to get used to new found freedom. Then, she carefully brought her big toe, probably about half as big as he was, and nudged him. Nothing. She nudged him again. She grinned wickedly, and hovered her foot over him, and started lowering it as if to crush him. She let it rest on him...maybe she would put a bit of pressure. It was only a figurine, after all. But she stopped. As she pulled her foot away, she enjoyed how it looked in the stockings, with her red toes shining through. And coolest of all was how much it dwarfed him.

She gently nudged him with her toe again.

“Come on, little guy. You told me how much you love feet. If you’re real down there, this is your lucky day. Better wake up so you don’t miss it.”

And wake up, he did.

He sat up, looked, around then up at the foot right in front of him that nudged him again.

“Hey!” He hollered, but she could barely hear him from the floor.

“You are real! Good thing you woke up! I almost crushed you!” She laughed.

“What happened?” He looked around at her pump, that sat next to him, then back to the stocking-clad foot.

“I know you like feet, but I’m up here.”

Tim looked up, and up, and looked back down quickly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Your skirt...uh.”

She didn’t even think about it. But yeah, he was getting a pretty good view. Did she care? He was a real person, but it felt different since he was so tiny. Like it wasn’t real. Or maybe she even liked it.

“It’s ok, little guy. Good to know this thong isn’t going to waste.”

He looked back up. Her legs were works of art. The muscles lithely moved under her stockings as she shifted. Her garter belt tops of her stockings circled her legs, just above her skirt hem. And in the darkness, he saw a hint of shiny red. He was in awe of her beauty, but looked the rest of the way up, where her eyes were barely visible peeking over her chest. Her hair hung down toward him, but far above. Her smile was crooked, and hard to read. Was she enjoying this?

“Well,” she said. “Sorry to do this, but you are hard to see and hear. I need a closer look at you.”

She bent her knees, and moved her feet. Under her pump, was the camera case Tim, had carried earlier. She thought not to mention that...Didn’t want to upset him any more yet. She covered it back up with her pump.

There she was, surrounding him, her knees hanging over his head and behind him, her butt far in front. She reached down, but the lack of even footing as one shoe was on, made her teeter. She fell on her ass, and as she leaned back, her legs shot in front of her. Her other pump even fell off. She laughed. But snapped back to the situation and looked down. She almost didn’t want to look. Mostly apprehension, but also...excitement?

Tim was lying down on the fabric of her skirt. The impact and whoosh of air must have blown him there. She was glad he was safe it seemed, but...it might be fun to sit on a little person...she tucked that back in her mind for later.

“You OK, down there?”

Tim looked around, scared, bewildered, and a bit embarrassed.

“Looks like you’re doing fine to me.” She laughed.

Tim spun his head around more.

“My feet are way down there. My panties are up here. You don’t know which way to look do you, little perv?” She laughed again and poked him with her long finger nail, but gently. No repeats of the cruise ship incident. Yet.

She then reached down for him.

“Shows over for now though, buddy.”

She picked him up using two fingers, and dropped him in her other hand palm. She marveled at the sight and so did he. She could almost close her hand on him and hide him. Her fingers were as long as his body. And the reduction in scale made him cute! Like she wanted to pinch him, but she remembered the cruise ship. Maybe a little kiss? “Little,” she thought. It would cover him, and ruin his clothes with lipstick. And what would stop her from popping his entire body in her mouth? She could. He’d easily fit. Take him in slowly? Head first? Feet first? Suck him in like pasta? Toss him in? Dangle him over her mouth like a sacrifice over a volcano?

“Lydia! Lydia!” Tim had been trying to get her attention as she was lost in thought again.

“Sorry. You’re a little hard to hear. Even up here in my hand.”

She rotated her hand around, and him too. “I just can’t believe you’re so tiny. This is so cool”

“And, a bit scary,” he said.

“Aww. I’ll protect you. Some of the other stuff in here, might be in trouble though.” She laughed as she looked around. “Hey! We should get a pic!” She got her phone out of her pocket. She held it in her right hand, and held her palm up with him in it toward her face.

“Turn and face the camera.”

“Ok, but we need to figure out what happened to me, and I guess some of the other stuff in here. I haven’t gotten a good look before a light hit me, and I woke up with your toe trying to attack me.”

“Ok, we will. Now, big smile! Ohhhh!” she said with a pout. I think your face is too small to be a puppy.”

Tim looked over at the huge screen of the phone. He had seen movie theater screens in some of the dollar theaters that were not as big. The image of him looked normal, if pixelated. Meanwhile Lydia’s eyes were ‘digitally cutened’ to have cartoony highlights. She also had ears that flopped as she moved her head, and a small, dark spot on her nose.

“Come on, look at the camera. Let me get you closer.” Her hand with Tim in it moved toward the lens. It pulsed back and forth, trying to focus on Tim, and then back to Lydia. Tim could see himself almost life-sized, as it were, on the screen, but Tim still looked like a normal guy, albeit a small one. No puppy features yet. He tried to raise up into the camera, turn his head this way and that. And he caught another glimpse of the screen. Lydia loomed behind him with a smirk. When she opened her mouth to talk, A cartoon tongue the size of a bus flopped out. Tim ducked, as it looked like it was coming right for him.

“Haha. OH! I wish I were recording. You little goofball.” Her finger came up behind him, and he ducked and fell on his ass, in her palm. She barely noticed as she turned the cartoon filter off on the phone.

“OK,” She said. “Just a normal pic now. Smile for the camera.”

He did, as he sat in her palm. It was a surreal sight that greeted him on her screen. He was still processing it. And the feeling of her hand under him. Soft, but powerful. He knew she could close her fingers, and it would be over for him. He shook his head. The thought was both exciting, and frightening.

“One more. Stand up.”

Tim obliged, and stood shakily on her soft hand. As he looked back at the screen, he saw her, making a mock scowl, with her mouth open wide, teeth bared, and coming right for him.

“Grrrrrrrr!” She growled. It was not threatening at all, a total joke. But it was still enough to make Tim lose his balance. He landed on his ass again in her palm.

“Oh! I didn’t mean to scare you! I thought you’d think it was funny.”

“Uh, in retrospect, it is pretty funny, but, being tiny still is taking some getting used to.”

She reached a finger out and, for the lack of a better term, pet him. It started as a “there there” gesture, but evolved into her finger tip actively exploring him.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. And we’ll find out what did this to you. What’s it like being shrunk?”

Her finger kept massaging and exploring as he answered. He didn’t seem to mind, even if he couldn’t keep his balance against the index finger’s strength.

“Well, it’s overwhelming. I have to say, it will save me a lot of photoshopping. I mean, you look like a real giant goddess.”

“Why thank you! I guess if I can’t grow, being around tiny things is the next best thing. And maybe squishing a few. Not you though!”

“Ok…”

“Continue, though. Like, what’s it like? Is my voice super loud?”

“It is pretty loud and powerful, but still sounds normal. Like, i don’t know how it’s not super low-pitched, or something, but it isn’t. Also my eyes seem to be a lot sharper. I can see such detail. The pixels of your phone, the swirls of your fingerprints, the individual threads of your stockings. But things don’t feel rougher. Like your hand is still really smooth and soft. But, weirdly, everything smells like cinnamon.”

Lydia laughed. She lifted up her box with the remaining, Cinnamon rolls and shook it.

“Ahhh, that explains it. Well, the smell of stuff is..magnified, like a lot.”

“Oh, sorry, i poked you with my stinky toe!” She laughed. She noticed his posture change as he sat there, maybe a bit embarrassed? Her finger tip trailed along his smooth, suede jacket, then up to his fine hair. Then slowly down his body to his legs. She could feel the muscles contract at her touch, and grinned. As strong as they seemed, her one finger was far more powerful.

“Uh, It’s ok. I didn’t mind.”

She moved him closer to her face, and moved her finger up his thigh. “Oh, yeah, you like feet.”

He was shyly trying to avoid her gaze, though he was right there, literally in the palm of her hand.

“But, it’s been a long day! You sure you didn’t mind being down there?”

“No. It was fine.”

Her finger tip could tell as it rested at the top of his thigh that it was more than fine.

“I don’t know if I believe you. Guess we’ll have to see,” she teased.

As she continued to sit on the floor, she brought her feet together about 5 inches apart, almost like she was going to clap them. She extended her hand down toward her feet, right over the ground, again, below the line of the front material of her skirt. When she got Tim in the space between her feet, she dropped him on the ground gently. She had a mischievous grin as she moved her feet toward him.

“How we doing so far?” Her feet even on their side were taller than him. She could easily grab him in her toes. Her feet got closer…

“Uh, no problem! I like it!” He inhaled deeply.

“That’s awesome. Well, here I come…” Her toes gently touched him, then trapped him between them. He disappeared…

***

Tim left the warmth of her hand, and the massaging of her finger, even with the nail that could slice him in two, he enjoyed it. But he found himself dumped on the floor. About 10 feet to either side of him, He saw her stocking clad soles. And they moved toward him, like the walls in a tomb that an explorer in an old movie would have to thwart.

He couldn’t tell if it was the sheerness of the stockings glistening, or slight layer of perspiration, or the fact she lotioned and took care of her feet really well, but they definitely seemed wet. As they got closer, he could see the fine, silky strands of her stockings. He tore his eyes off her feet for a moment to look up at her, grinning in the distance, like a deity observing her sacrifice, but...playful, not cruel. Her hands rested on her upper thighs, and he saw her thigh muscles flex, like lithe walls.

Then the smell hit him. It was amazing. He may not have noticed it at normal height. It was subtle, perfume, lotion, leather, and her feminine sweat. It washed over him. He felt like she was claiming him, dominating him. And he tried to keep his cool. Then, the hot toes touched him. He didn’t have much time to think as they engulfed him entirely. He slid between the toes and the ball of her foot. The stocking put up some resistance, like a trampoline,but the foot was powerful, and pressed him into the indentation of the toes, molding the sweaty stocking around him. How absurd. Describing her toes as powerful. But they were. And he felt like he knew he belonged there. He took a breath, and now he did belong there, to her.

***

Lydia just meant it as a goof, but it felt good to have him trapped there. She knew he liked it, but thought he might be exaggerating. But no, he seemed to love it. That made her feel powerful! The impulse to squish him rose up again, but she quelled it. No. It felt wrong to crush him, but she would crush some other things for sure...or people. Sacrifices to the goddess.

Though she didn’t want to squish him, she figured she better release her tiny prisoner before he suffocated...or drowned in sweat. He was probably too big for that, but...Maybe she could find someone to experiment with.

She opened her feet. Tim stuck to her right foot, and this provoked a laugh. She put her foot on her knee and eyed him up under her sole.

“Wow. I guess you really do love my feet. Just couldn’t stand to be apart from them.”

“Yup…” Tim panted for air as her fingers came to get him.

She peeled him off her foot, and dangled him in front of her.

“You’re a little wet.” She wiggled her eyebrows to insinuate a pun. “I wonder if there are any little doll clothes that fit you.” She stood up and looked around. With all that happened, she barely got in the front door of the place.  As she stood, she grabbed her box of rolls in the other hand. “Oh, Hey! You want some?”

With Tim in one palm, she popped the lid on the box with the other.

“I hadn’t eaten anything today yet.”

She dropped him in the box in the empty space where the already-eaten rolls once were. She grabbed her shoes in the hand that she once held Tim in.

“Hey, before you tear into those, maybe you should take your clothes off.”

“I guess, they could get pretty messed up with the frosting.”

“They already are! I don’t want the buns to taste like my toes! Now strip!”

“Uh, ok.” Tim whipped his jacket off into a corner, relatively unmarred by cinnamon.

“No, tiny toy. Slowly!” She laughed.

“Very funny. I’ll go slow...and only down to boxer briefs.”

She pouted sarcastically. “Ok. Fine.”

He unbuttoned his shirt and swayed his hips.

“If I can’t find you new clothes, I can get a piece of silk and make you a toga or something.”

He slowly slid  his shirt off his shoulder, then he walked to the front of the box, and threw it on her nose.

She giggled, and it sent the garment fluttering down. She caught it in her mouth.

“Hey. I thought you didn’t want to taste your own toes.”

Through teeth still holding the garment, she said, “I didn’t. But you’re right. They’re awesome!”

“So, I can keep my pants on?”

She shook her head ‘no.’

He shimmied out of his pants. She tucked his shirt in her own shirt’s pocket. She held her fingers out, and he handed her his jeans. She put them, too, in her pocket.

He walked over to the cinnamon buns and pondered. “Now, how do I--”

She took her index finger and hit him in the butt, and sent him sprawling into one of the rolls. Icing covered him from head to toe.

She laughed. As he tried to stand up, she wiggled her hand with the box in it, and he fell back in.

“Oh my god! It’s so sticky!”

“Title of your sex tape,” she said.

“I can’t get it off.”

“Also, the title of your sex tape.”

She laughed as he struggled a bit more. “Just enjoy some scoops of that stuff, and I’ll help you.”

He sat on the bun, and tried to scoop some in his mouth. His world jostled as she walked, looking around.

Hundreds of tiny things were in the display cases. All different scales.

“Do you think all of this is real? I mean you’re real. Is this?” She moved her free hand to atiny building to pick it up, but her delicate touch crumbled it. She looked at Tim in the box. He couldn’t see the building below. Nor...the tiny specks running from it. Must have been dozens. All about the size of grains of rice. She reached her hand out to the building, formerly about 10 stories high, now in ruin, but many of the concrete walls were intact. Her hand hovered there. Casting the tiny people in shadow….she lowered her hand on them, and the remnants of their building, with no effort, she turned the rest of the building into fine powder. It put up almost no effort. Before she knew it, her hand was on the counter. Tiny people still ran between her splayed fingers. She rotated her hand with shallow breath. They were all gone.

“Hey, I think I’m done. Can you help me n--”

Lydia moved her mouth toward Tim and licked him up into it. Though Tim was covered in frosting, he barely seemed to get any of it off the roll. She swished him in her mouth. And looked for more things to crush.