Something from Nothing, by Pedro Fellini

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:

  1. 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.

  2. 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.

  3. 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.

  4. 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.

  5. 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.


6 thoughts on “Something from Nothing, by Pedro Fellini

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  1. I haven’t had a chance to read the story yet, but what you said, “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?” was a bit shocking! Something’s changed in you? Surely I misread that! Think of us tiny ones!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you for this, big one. This story is both inspired by, and dedicated to you. Having read your blog since it started (and before at the other place) I think I have enough of an idea what pushes your buttons, and so I wanted to see if I could weave that into a tale and hit all the right notes.

    I’m so glad to see that I seem to have been successful. :-D

    Obviously, being me I added in a bit of the stuff I like (bye bye little bank man), and a bit of adventure so it’s not just pure fetish porn.

    Now it’s published I’m starting to spot little things in it I want to change and add in. I’ve actually noticed that I’ve missed an entire bit out! The CD she got from her aunt is a bit of a Chekhov’s Gun right now.

    So maybe expect a few tweaks.

    Now who really deserves the glory for this story? The little man who wrote it out, little more than a tiny amanuensis. Or the glorious giantess that inspired it?

    I know what I think.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It is my pleasure, little one. You honor me with your words, you regale me with your word craft, and you gift me with your friendship. Your years of attention have paid off, because… not only do you understand my buttons, you invent new ones for me to find, at which to marvel. Thank you for that.

      Of course you had to add those details you like. I would not imagine you’d ever stop yourself from doing that, nor would I wish that for you. I want all your tiny dreams to come true on the screen. I almost typed “paper”! That’s because of what I see in my head when I picture a tiny writer: a dollhouse, an inviting room in it where a small, beloved shape labors intensely by the light of a candle, or a repurposed Christmas bulb. He bends his form to pour it all on tiny sheets of paper I’ve given him, using a sharpened quill fashioned from a section of one single hair strand from my head, dipping it in ink with a rhythm as ancient as love. Everything around him brings him comfort, and when he’s busy in such a manner, I can only marvel at his industry as I watch him work.

      And bring him tea and a tiny section of a sweet scone.

      And use that excuse to interrupt him.

      I can tell he needs a break.

      I know what you think. And I will allow it.

      Liked by 2 people

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