Leaf

It just so happens that humans like to think about things, and as an astonishing consequence of thought, they like to bring into reality those things they imagine. Imagine that! Now, the group of people that interests me for the purpose of this entry is that one that likes to think of beings of different sizes, sometimes with a sexual purpose, and sometimes without one. I belong to that group of people, and even among them I’m a minority simply because of my gender.

It’s a well known fact that no one can be intimate with a giantess, because we don’t exist. Sadly, the reverse is also true. It’s impossible to come on to a shrunken man, because there are none to be found in nature. So what do we do? We use Photoshop, we draw, we write stories, with the intention of painting a scene of what’s in our minds.

I had a blog at the now defunct Giantess.com where I stashed all this stuff, and even there it was embarrassing to share it with the perfect stranger that is the Internet, and I grew so uncomfortable at one point that I temporarily deleted my blog. I was about to initiate it again when the blogs there were shut down as well… so I’m here for a while.

I have a vague idea of the reason why writing publicly about these things is embarrassing. It can be a very personal matter, deeply intimate. My social conditioning dictates I keep such matters to myself, and so do my principles (therefore I will be keeping them to myself) but there are places in the spectrum of blogging about this stuff that are healthy, possibly even helpful. That’s why I’m here.

So, my name is [Undersquid] and I like to think about being a giantess, and about shrunken men. Man.

Example:

“Birds. I hate them.”

I heard his voice despite the clicking of my keyboard as I worked, and I darted my eyes from the computer screen to glance at him. He was sitting a few inches away from my moving fingers, on my kneaded eraser, which he had pounded into the shape of a rudimentary seat after many weeks of punching it with his tiny fists and rolling it under his small body in the same way I used to pretend to exercise with my inflatable vinyl ball, now forgotten next to the treadmill that now doubled as a clothes rack.

He looked bored. Whenever he was bored, he hinted at things he wanted to do. Vituperating birds showed the same desire to go out that people that rail against rain demonstrate… except in their case rain drops could not carry them away to their nests and feed them to their young.

“I know, honey.” I kept typing, knowing the drip of hints would continue.

“Nice day, today.”

clickety-clack-click-clack “True, dear.”

“Sunny, after this morning’s storm.”

“Mhmm…”

“Fingers tired yet?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

He started flexing his legs and stretching his back. Being a leg woman, I naturally felt my focus peel away from my work like a three-day scab. Dirty rat, I thought, I need to get this done– But then he crossed one leg over the other, his ankle resting over the other leg’s knee, and began to twirl his foot. My temples startled to tingle, and my mouth, to water.

“Whatcha looking at?” he asked, innocently. I hadn’t noticed I was staring, and my typing had stopped. I moved my eyes from his delicious toes to his face (a very short distance), and narrowed them. I was about to scold him, but the self-satisfied smile he had plastered on his face pulled an involuntary giggle from my throat.

“That’s a dirty trick, Little One.”

“Yes, dear. Sorry, dear. Won’t do it again, dear.”

“Right. Maybe not this minute. So, you are bored, and none of your toys will amuse you,” I said, giving up the keyboard, and turning my office chair an inch to the right. His brown hair began to blow back and settle intermittently, keeping the rhythm of my breath.

“I am bored… and thought maybe we could go boating. It’s a beautiful day, and you won’t let me go outside on my own, so I thought we could go to the pier, and rent a boat.”

He was right. It was a beautiful day, and birds would spot him on the grass in an instant. I drove from my mind with a shiver the incipient thought of his body in the air to be beaked to death, and smiled at him again.

“OK! It’s boating for you, then.” Gently, I picked him up from my desk and the eraser that had a delightful two-cheeked shape where he had been seating, and walked out the back door. From the coil of my fingers I heard his chirping.

“”Why are we going out the back door? And you forgot the car keys. Honey?”

I was silent as I partially closed my eyes to the momentarily shocking brightness of the day. The grass was wet, the trees glistened with thousands of clinging water diamonds, and to the right of my deck I spied a puddle. A yellow leaf rested on the surface. I walked to it and smiled as grass blades tickled and wet my feet.

“”What’s going on? What are you doing?” I could hear disappointment in his voice, and almost felt guilty … but then the thought of what I was about to do brought another smile to my face. I looked down at him, barely visible in the embrace of my hand, and kneeled slowly, bringing my knees down to the edge of the puddle. I opened my fingers and released his tiny body to the floating leaf. He yelped and bounced slightly on the soft surface.

“”Ouch! Oh, c’mon- I thought we were going to the pier- this is not my idea- man….”

He sat up and gave me a reproachful look. I handed him a toothpick.

“Yes, I know. You wanted me to get on a boat and row all day as you sat in my pocket and napped. You wanted me to get us in the car and drive ninety minutes to the pier, and entertain you. Well, darling, it is you who is going to do the amusing. Go on, Little One, use the toothpick as an oar, and show me how tiny you are….”

He rowed, and loved every minute of it, especially when the wind of my breath would send him to the other side of the puddle. When exhausted, he fell asleep in the bed of the leaf, and I lifted it by its bended canopy to bring him inside with me.

I still didn’t get any work done after that.

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4 thoughts on “Leaf

  1. It just isn’t fair of me to say that I have one favorite of your beautiful collages, because every one of them tell me personal stories as they of course do for you, in the very creation of making them. BEAUTIFUL personal stories of….well…things I cannot publish here because they are private between you and I.

    Yet this collage and the story you share here and the story we’ve told each other, has between us, always moved me so emotionally. Tender is the word that has always come to mind when I linger on the scene of this collage. Delicate, fragile…adorable and innocent. Your attention to realism in creating this piece is profound! And it takes my breath away just in staring at him laying in that little leaf just turned a lovely golden color to announce the coming of fall. Perhaps one of the last moments of the season, to enjoy a day out in the warmth of sun as autumn nears, with the Tall woman he loves and is so devoted to more than anything in the universe!

    I have no skill in the realm of making collages, and I marvel so much at YOURS and the time it must have taken, well I KNOW, to take the elements you did in bringing this story to life. The more I view this, the more I am moved by the tender romantic story and too, how perfect your talent and devotion to making every single part of it so real! The reflection of the upper leaf canopy in the water, his reflection in reverse, the shadowing of his body against the leaf.

    And how I smile to such giddy width when reading the story you tell of it!

    You touch me in ways I can only express to you in private, not here. But suffice to say, when you think of the phrase..”a picture tells a thousand words?”…it makes my spirit flutter with gratefulness and emotion of how lucky I am to be your little squid.

    Thank you for posting this for me!

    Your blissful little squid

    Like

  2. Well, you know I’m a little less biased about my own work, and have mentioned before that I think some of them suck. They are all good practice.

    Practice for what? I don’t know. I’m fascinated by our human capacity to be enraptured by activities that produce us no financial gain whatsoever, no acclaim, no muscle development, and certainly no intellectual tumescence.

    But DAMN, can I select pixels!

    No, I wasn’t being sarcastic.

    Well, maybe I was, just a little bit.

    Thank you for the lovely comment, and I think I’ve had the image of that leaf with me for years… maybe it began to grow inside of me since childhood, when I used to look at the ground as I walked home from school, to spot leaves and fallen petals on the sidewalk, to look at little sticks and bugs, or the lines and cracks in the pavement.

    And you are welcome. 🙂

    Like

  3. This was lovely, too. It’s a very cute picture that leads into a touching and personal scenario… thinking about what an actual day would look like, long after the initial grappling with this-can’t-be-real has worn off. When it’s shifted from the breathless “Anything! Yes! Anything you desire!” to a canny “Actually, I have a better idea.” I love the playful outing… it’s so sweet, I can’t stop grinning.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m glad it made you grin. I remember where I was (mentally) when I wrote this. I enjoyed thinking about all the in-between moments, the sort of things they did as a couple, when they were not going at it. There are a million stories hidden in there. I saw them so easily, and they also made me smile.

      Liked by 1 person

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