It all started with a tweet, like so many things I write. Giantess Tina said something to me, then I said something back to her, and I thought I should use my Pixton account to make something of it. There’s no mist or sea foam in the Pixton edit menu, so I had to pull those out of my Internet magic hat. I’m sure that’s a fascinating detail. So… what’s the story here?
It’s very simple, really: Mistpouffers are always sounds giantesses make. In this case, it’s Tina who’s found a boat and its tiny (to us) navigator, and while he’s busy realizing those booming sounds he often heard coming from somewhere in the blue were made by a giantess living her life, she’s busy delighting in having found a precious… meal? Plaything? Companion? Friend? Lover? Who knows… in any case, he always transcends from human being to something else, something new.
When it’s me, the result is always life continued, only slightly modified by my giant whims. Why should I break such a wonderful toy? I’d never think of it. It’s my tendency to want him to live a long life. Once I pick a toy, it’s extremely unlikely I’d want to give it up. Therefore, his health is very important to me. Things like the state of his spine, and lungs, and legs. His puny brain, though materially useless, is also a fair diversion.
So, pay attention. When you go to the beach this summer, you’ll hear them in the night. When you go out at night to walk the dog, and listen to the waves crashing, don’t be distracted by the foam and the crabs dancing in the moonlight. You might miss that giant silhouette breaking the horizon line. If you don’t stop and look for the source of those booming sounds, you won’t see that feminine mountain range swimming your way, and extending one hand to pick your body from the shore.
Anyone else would say, “You’ll never be seen again,” but the truth is, you’ll finally be seen.