Why did I pick this prompt? I used an online word generator to come up with my Squidtober prompts, and I used it until all the words it gave me were to my satisfaction, so I must have refreshed the generate button a few times. “Glance” is a no-brainer word for the visual giantess that I am. All my life I’ve looked at things and people, and I have perceived them as very small. For as long as I can remember I have searched the ground for… for what? I had no idea. All I knew is that urge, that need, that endless, unquenched desire to find something. Someone. A thing unidentified. Now that I know better, I realize I was looking for that tiny companion, that little person that belongs with me for all time.
Sometimes I imagine that all that should be required to shrink a person is the right look; a meaningful glance that carries a perfect choice with it; weightless, inescapable, unchangeable. Someone like me should be able to spot that candidate for shrinking in a crowded street, and say to herself, there he is! He’s the one I want to shrink! When that happens, that perfect choice of a person should begin to reduce in size until he is nothing but a slight shape trapped under the weight of his own clothes, garments he will never wear again.
That person should keep shrinking for as long as their now owner keeps looking at them, and decided they are small enough. If there is such a thing. Most of the time the perfect size for that speck of a person is two inches in height… so when that height is reached, the shrinking stops. Such a change happens because I want it to happen, regardless of what the person at the other end of my will thinks, or wants.
But there is something smoldering to be said about shrinking someone that wants to be tiny, and they only want to be tiny for me. It’s nothing short of miraculous to meet someone that looks into my eyes, that meets them with strength and grace, and then says, “please, shrink me.” The only right thing to do then is to push that person into a sitting position, to straddle that person where they sit, to plant a deep kiss on their normal-sized lips, and to look deeply into their eyes as I order him to shrink. What started as a glance, a flirty look, a shy smile, is now a deep gaze that heats up as he shrinks and I seem to grow, still straddling that form that becomes emptier as he reaches his final size. We never break eye contact until I straddle him again and blind him as I cover his tiny body with the size and weight of me, and kisses of a deeper kind.
Even in the darkness that I move like an earthquake I designed, he keeps his eyes open, only blinking when they sting because of the slightly acidic moisture that washes over him. He might be afraid, but he’s also happy to be there. He knows how I made him is how he should be, and where I put him is where he belongs. Even when I grow so mindless he screams with the intensity of my pressing, my gliding and my heavy claims upon his slithering shape, he knows what’s happening is right. Later, when I pinch his body carefully and lift it off its sticky hold, I’ll clean him carefully and reward him with the life he deserves, one full of love and knowing glances.