The best stories are the ones that change us. You remember some from your childhood, I’m sure. Tales that shaped your mind, instructed your understanding of the world, and guided your absorption of language as a tool to make yourself known as a sentient being to those closest to you, but most importantly, to yourself. This is one such story. Pedro Fellini is one such writer.
His words transformed me when I thought it was’t possible to do that with a story, much less a story springing forth from the size community. Sure, there are excellent writers out there. I only know a handful. Now I know one more, and one that has the power to change the way I think and feel, especially about things I thought were canon in my mind, immutable facts about how I see the size world.
This is how that happened:
- The story brings us back to the world of The Change, where all men have been reduced to a manageable size, and… well, time has passed, and one tiny man that has managed to survive in this world is placed in the path of a woman that only has to take one look at him to behave in exactly the same way I would behave, given the slightest opportunity.
There’s gentle, and then there’s GENTLE. The kind you find in this story is the latter. Sasha is a tender woman, but that doesn’t mean she’s a pushover. Her gentleness is a force of nature. A man sits in that hurricane like a blooming leaf, and where the male character thought himself a shapeless lump of clay before, he begins to take shape under Sasha’s care. And what a beautiful shape it is.
The tiny man is, also by my definition, a force of nature, and dear goddess, that’s how I love them. I love a tiny man that makes his way in the world, that struggles with all his might to understand what’s around him, that is tireless in his dedication to his Goddess, that knows when to thrust his heart and body into her, and adopt her shape, while at the same time… bringing his own shape into her mind, her body, her soul, over and over again, until she sees them both as one. I can’t tell you how pleasurable it was to read about that man in Something from Nothing.
I abhor cruel stories. I reject them. I don’t seek them out unless I have some personal connection with the author. The idea of a small man suffering brings me to tears, and can devastate me for days, like a nightmare I can’t forget. But here’s what I mean about the power of a transformative story: Something from Nothing changed that in me. It had to be the right writer, using the right words, and Pedro is that writer. Now, under his carefully held prism, I can see the value, the very indispensability of crushing a man to a pulp. Sometimes there is no other way, you see? I would have never seen that way if it hadn’t been for Pedro’s magical spell.
Another mind-bending moment was that one of making me see smallness as a desirable size. Now, if you tell this to anyone, I will deny it. I’m a giantess. I will always be a giantess; but Pedro writes, and he conjures up such delight, such wondrous enjoyment as to be found in the heart of a man because he’s small, and he’s beloved… that I could not help, for just a fraction of a second, but wonder and wish that joy for myself. That is not something I had felt before, when reading any story. Transformative. Mind altering. Pedro.