A couple of days ago someone shared a link with me to a series of ads that included a version of the above. I altered the male shape to cater to my thoughts and had a lovely moment to myself as I thought how wonderful it would be to live in a world where adoption of tiny people is possible. There would be a procedure to make sure there’s a good fit, and part of that procedure includes filling out a thorough questionnaire. Imagining some of the questions felt like taking a drug.
The above was another ad at the same address, and it’s a concept I like for stories so much, I’ve created comics and stories about it. I’m sure I’ll do it again, for the same reasons I like the notion of a woman adopting a shrunken man. What if there existed a world where men are made tiny intentionally, and then marketed as toys? I’d like to think there’s a version of me in that world, and she finds a perfect toy, one that’s a fit for all my needs.
This is not sizey, but I’m gonna throw it in here because who’s gonna stop me? I was walking home, and my route included a college dorm building. I could hear young women moving about and talking as I walked down a hallway towards an exit when I spotted a gorgeous white cat on the floor. I picked her up and she had glitter all over her hair.
At first, I was horrified for obvious reasons. What kind of monster puts glitter all over their pet? I was about to take her with me when I looked at my sparkly fingers and realized the glitter was natural, and produced by the cat herself. I still wanted to steal her but her human was working on a paper a couple of doors away, and she saw me holding her sparkly cat.
I left the building and arrived at home, where I went to the living room to pick up a basketful of laundry when something underneath the pile of clothes started working its way out. At first, I thought (in my dream), Yes! A little guy! But it was another cat, a deep orange one with a patch of dark hair on his back in the shape of a giraffe.
His hair was gloriously long and soft, and I didn’t care how he broke into my home, because I was keeping him forever. And that’s true. All of my cats have just shown up in my life, and I’ve never made the least effort to find out if they are “lost”. They are mine. The same way that man I might shrink one day is mine.
I’m working on eighteen different things: stories, incomplete series, collaborations, commissions, my idea for a size podcast, drawing, painting, gifts, size crafts, and all of that after recovering from my second worst writer’s block ever. It’s still pouring out of me slowly and painfully, so send me your good thoughts.
I’m going to keep writing even if you send me your bad thoughts, and despite my own. I was told recently my writing sucks… No, that’s not true. I was told my writing is not as good as it used to be; it’s angry now. Maybe. I just shrugged, because I’m going to keep writing no matter what anyone thinks. It’s what I do, like breathing. And pooping.