RUNNING LATE (2024)

Chris has plans to hang with the guys after work, but upon showing up, they weren't around. Oh well, must be running late. He'll just kick his feet up and wait.

SECRETS (2024)

Chris pulled into the driveway, weary from a long day at work. He fished his phone from the cup holder and dialled Sarah’s number, as per their tradition to call one another when they got home. No answer. Not bothered and thinking she was still at work, he opened their alarm system app and tapped to disarm the house alarm system, a usual routine that he didn’t even need to look at the screen to do it. The app “confirmed” deactivation, and Chris got out of the car and trekked towards the house.



—

Meanwhile, inside the house, Sarah’s stomach flipped as her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She recognized the ringtone immediately—Chris was calling. He only ever called when he arrived home, a habit she’d learned to expect. Her hands trembled as she picked it up, staring at the screen.

“No, no, no,” she whispered, dread pooling in her stomach. Peering out the living room window, she saw his car parked in the driveway, Chris sitting inside it looking at his phone. Her breath caught, panic spreading like wildfire. “He’s home early. He’s not supposed to be home yet!”

"Relax," Alex said, lounging on the couch with his feet up. “It’s not like he’s going to burst in here and—”

“Shut up!” Sarah hissed. She began grabbing his clothes in a frenzy, tossing them into a heap. “You have to go! Like, now!”

“Babe,” Alex said with a smirk, “he won’t even notice me. I’ll just hide in the closet or something. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Sarah’s hands trembled as she shoved a shoe at him, hearing the car door slam. “Are you insane? The closet? This isn’t some stupid sitcom—he’ll kill us both! Get your ass out the door!”

“But I’m only wearing pants—”

“I don’t care! Go!”

Suddenly, a loud beep-beep-beep echoed through the house. Sarah froze, the colour draining from her face.

"Uh, what’s that?" Alex asked, finally looking concerned.

Sarah’s voice came out in a whisper. “The alarm… Oh God, the alarm’s…a-armed! How-”

"What does that mean?" Alex said, his voice rising in panic.

“It means I need the—” Sarah’s breath hitched, her words choking off between gasping breaths as the beeping grew louder, faster.

She never even finished her sentence about needing the code to stop it. A sharp, mechanical whir filled the room, cutting through the air like a blade, followed by a pulsing red light that swept across the space, scanning every corner. Alex froze, his mouth opening to speak, but no sound came out.

The beeping reached an unbearable crescendo. Then, in an instant, a bright flash erupted—like a blinding camera flash—filling the room before vanishing just as quickly as it had come. The silence that followed was deafening.

—

Sliding his phone into his pocket, Chris stepped into the house, irritation etched across his face. The persistent flashing of the alarm system greeted him, grating against his already frayed nerves. He paused in the entryway, frowning as he glanced at his phone.

“I thought I…?” he muttered, his confusion deepening.

Setting his bag down with a heavy thud, Chris moved to the system near the door. The alarm’s incessant urgency seemed to grow louder with every step, its high-pitched tone needling at his patience. With a sigh of frustration, he punched in the code, silencing the noise at last.

Unbeknownst to him, the simple action ensured the tiny figures now trapped on the floor would remain that way, their fates sealed by his unwitting mistake. The alarm system, programmed to neutralize intruders, had done its job perfectly.

Chris shook his head, muttering as he turned toward the living room. “Stupid thing could’ve shrunk me,” he said under his breath with a scoff. “What’s the point of a smart system if it doesn’t work?”



—

The sound of Chris’s voice reverberated like a god’s decree to the tiny figures trapped on the floor. Sarah’s heart pounded as she craned her neck upward, staring at the towering figure of her boyfriend fumbling with the security system. Her screams of terror, frantic and desperate, were swallowed whole by the sheer vastness of the room, her pleas for help reduced to nothing more than whispers in the expanse.

Chris turned, his usual routine taking over as he began tapping the toes of his boots against the floor. Each impact sent shuddering vibrations through the ground, dislodging clumps of dirt and grass from his workday. Sarah flinched as the debris rained down, the chunks falling like meteors behind his massive foot. Alex, shrunken alongside her, was stumbling nearby, coughing from the clouds of dust stirred up by the debris.

“Chris!” she cried, her voice cracking with desperation. “Chris, you shrunk us! Look down! Look-! No, here-! Stop-! Don’t-!”

Her words faltered, choked off by fear, as Chris leaned down and tugged off his boots. This time, the dirt fell all around her and Alex, larger pieces landing with heavy thuds that sent tremors rippling through the floor. The pungent stench of sweat and leather burst forth from the boots, a noxious wave that enveloped them both. Sarah gagged and covered her nose, glancing at Alex as he doubled over, his tiny body shaking with the effort to breathe.

The discarded boots slammed down onto the floor near them, the impact sending another quake through the boards that knocked Sarah off her feet and Alex onto his hands and knees. A fresh wave of dirt rolled their way, gritty and relentless, forcing Sarah to crawl backward, her chest heaving. The trapped air from within the boots slowly escaped, wafting toward them and intensifying the already overwhelming stench. Sarah scrambled to her feet, coughing and gasping, while Alex struggled just to sit upright, his face pale with fear.

Above them, Chris peeled off his damp socks and flung them aside. The socks landed atop the boots with a heavy plop, the damp fabric slumping into peaks and valleys like sweat-soaked mountains. The acrid smell intensified, filling the air with a suffocating musk that made Sarah’s head spin.

“Chris, please!” Sarah shrieked, waving her arms wildly, her voice breaking with the effort. “We’re down here! You shrunk us!”

Chris’s bare feet hit the floor with a deafening slap, the sound reverberating through the room like thunderclaps. Each step was a seismic event, the ground trembling beneath Sarah and Alex as the giant figure moved. Sarah screamed again as the shadow of his foot passed over them, the massive wall of flesh displacing the air with enough force to knock her over. Alex scrambled to grab her arm, but she shook him off, desperate to get away as Chris’s sole crashed down mere inches from where they had stood. The vibrations rattled Sarah’s teeth as she scrambled to her feet, her mind reeling. Alex had been pushed farther away by the impact, still struggling to rise, as Chris strode away, his heavy steps carrying him toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Chris opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, twisting the cap off with a flick of his wrist and tossing it onto the counter. He took a long, satisfying swig, oblivious to the tiny pair pleading for his attention in the other room. The faint beeping of the alarm system still echoed in his ears, an annoying reminder of its earlier malfunction.

“God, what a piece of junk,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry. He’d already spent too much time on hold with tech support this week, and the thought of calling them again made his head ache. Shrugging it off, he made his way back toward the couch, his mind already on the beer and whatever show he planned to watch.—
 “What did you do to us, Sarah?!” Alex growled, his voice shaking as he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to turn around. His panicked eyes darted between her and the vast expanse of the living room, his breath quickening.

“Nothing!” Sarah yelled, jerking away from his grip. “Chris did it! He must have rearmed the system from his car without realizing—”

“You bitch!” Alex cut her off, his face red with fury. “You think this is just bad luck? Turn us back! Now!”

“I can’t!” Sarah screamed, her voice cracking. “Chris has to report the accident to the security company. They’re the only ones who can reverse it!”

“What, they’re going to grow us back?” Alex spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You think he’s going to be all sunshine and gratitude when he finds his cheating girlfriend and the asshole she’s screwing around with? Sarah, so help me God, if you don’t—”

His words died on his lips as the rumbling returned, shaking the floor beneath their feet. Both of them froze as the booming steps grew louder, each one like a distant explosion that made their tiny bodies quiver. Chris was coming back.

“Move!” Sarah shrieked, grabbing Alex’s arm and pulling him forward. But in her panic, her grip faltered, and Alex stumbled. He tripped on a stray hair on the ground, falling hard onto his knees.

“Sarah, wait!” Alex called out, reaching for her, but she didn’t turn back. The shadow of Chris’s foot passed over them like an eclipse, and Sarah scrambled faster, driven by pure instinct. Behind her, Alex tried to push himself up, but it was too late.

Chris’s foot came down with a deafening boom, the force of air slamming into Sarah like a wave, throwing her tiny body forward. She hit the ground hard, coughing as vibrations rattled her bones. Shaking, she turned back as the massive foot lifted and moved away, the floor trembling beneath her with every step Chris took toward the couch.

“Alex?” she whispered, her voice cracking. She stared at the vast expanse where Chris’s foot had landed. The smooth hardwood was gone, replaced by an oily impression—a swamp-like footprint slogged with glistening pools of sweat, sock lint, and stray hairs. The air was heavy with damp heat, carrying the faint, sour stench of his step.

Her eyes darted frantically across the mess. Faint streaks of red marred the edges of the footprint, blending with the debris. Her stomach twisted violently. “Alex?” she called again, louder this time, but the word came out like a choked gasp.

He’s fine, she told herself. He had to be. Maybe he’d run. Maybe he was hiding, waiting for her. Her gaze skittered over the footprint again, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—make sense of the streaks of red or the mangled clump of fabric caught in the grime. She stumbled backward, forcing herself to look away.

The couch groaned as Chris settled onto it, the vibrations jolting her from her thoughts. The ground trembled slightly as his feet settled on top of the couch, but Sarah’s focus was fixed on the couch. If she could climb high enough, he’d see her. He had to.

—Chris tossed the bag of chips onto the couch beside him, letting out a long sigh as he sank into the cushions. He kicked up his feet, resting them at the base of the couch as he reached for the remote. The faint smell of sweat wafted from his soles, but he barely noticed.

He flicked through the channels aimlessly, still grumbling under his breath. “Damn alarm system,” he muttered, popping open his phone. “Guess I’ll need to call those idiots again tomorrow.”

—


Sarah began her climb, her tiny hands gripping the coarse fabric of the couch as she hauled herself upward. Each pull on the rough surface sent sharp pains through her strained arms, her entire body trembling under the relentless scale of her surroundings. The oppressive enormity of her situation pressed down on her like a suffocating weight. She refused to let herself think about Alex—he was fine, she repeated to herself, over and over, clinging to the words like a mantra. He had to be fine.

The journey felt endless, each inch upward sapping her strength until she finally heaved herself over the edge of the cushion. Collapsing onto the soft surface, she gasped for air, her body quivering from exertion. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to lie still, letting the texture of the couch cushion press against her skin. Relief trickled in, fragile and fleeting—until her gaze traveled upward.

Chris’s feet loomed above her, impossibly massive, their sheer size a cruel reminder of her helplessness. Her breath hitched as she took in every detail—the faint ridges of his soles, the way his toes wiggled lazily at the top, their overgrown nails catching the dim light. The faint musk of sweat hung heavily in the air, turning her stomach as she crawled forward, her limbs trembling. She could see the faint sheen of perspiration clinging to his skin, each bead glistening like some grotesque reminder of his unawareness. Her gaze locked onto the ball of his left foot, where something dark and smeared marred the pale surface.

A red stain glistened, streaked across the creases like a morbid signature. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths shallow and uneven. Something was embedded in the smear, small and mangled—barely recognizable. A scrap of fabric clung to it, its color muted and soaked with blood.

“No,” she rasped, her voice barely audible. Her body felt heavier with every step forward, each movement an effort against the rising dread in her chest. “No, no…”

The truth slammed into her like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs. The fabric scrap—it was Alex’s pants. The stain—it was Alex.

A strangled cry escaped her lips, low and guttural, rising into a piercing wail that echoed across the vast expanse of the couch. “Alex!” she screamed, her voice cracking as raw sobs wracked her body. She clawed at the cushion beneath her, tears spilling freely and soaking into the fabric. “Alex! No! Please, no!”

Above her, Chris shifted in his seat, his movements sending faint tremors through the couch. His toes flexed absently, the simple, mechanical motion completely indifferent. Sarah froze as his feet rubbed together, the casual act sending ripples through the air that seemed to mock her anguish. The smear of blood on his foot shifted with the motion, the mangled remains of her lover quivering under the unfeeling friction.

“Stop!” she screamed, her voice breaking into a hoarse, desperate sob. “Stop, please!” Her tiny hands reached out, trembling, as she watched a final flick of Chris’s foot send the bloody fragment flying. It landed in a crumpled heap far beyond her reach, nothing more than a forgotten speck on the vast couch.

“Chris!” she screamed again, her voice raw and ragged. “Please, look! Alex—he’s—” Her words crumbled into incoherence, the weight of despair crashing over her. She collapsed onto the cushion, pounding her fists weakly against the fabric as sobs consumed her.

—

Above her, Chris leaned back into the couch, stretching his legs out comfortably as he tried to shake off the stress of his workday. The house was quiet—eerily so. The faint squeaks and shrieks from his tiny girlfriend below never registered to his ears, lost in the vast space between their worlds. The only sounds he heard were the low hum of the television and the gentle clink of his beer bottle against the coffee table.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Chris unlocked it with a swipe and began tapping out a message, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

“You free tomorrow?” he typed.

The reply came almost instantly, the cheerful tone of the response making him chuckle. “Of course,” the message read. “Same place?”

Chris’s smirk deepened as he set the phone down, taking another swig from his beer. The cold drink slid down smoothly, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. He rested his head against the back of the couch, his mind wandering.

Sarah never asked where he went during her long shifts. She was always too busy, too distracted by her own routine to notice. And honestly, it was better that way—simpler. She had her world, and he had his. Neither needed to know too much about the other’s secrets.

FRONT PORCH (2024)

Travis ran across the hard wood of the porch as he approached his giant neighbour Chris, who was just chilling on his phone. Using the strength he could muster, he screamed at the top of his lungs for Chris' attention to no avail.

READY OR NOT (2024)

“Ready or not, here I come!” Brad’s voice echoed, a playful call that shook the tiny man to his core. To Brad, this was a game, a lighthearted search around his own home. But to the tiny figure hiding below the step, it was a desperate challenge to stay unseen and safe.

Brad’s foot landed heavily on the step just above, a careless, casual shift of his weight, but for the tiny man below, it was like the approach of a landslide. The massive sole stretched out before him, thick and calloused, with every wrinkle and imperfection visible at this close range. He huddled against the baseboard, pressing himself as far back as he could, hoping to remain unseen. A faint musk lingered in the air, remnants of Brad’s steps around the house, an aroma that was overwhelmingly potent at this scale, filling the tiny man’s lungs with each shallow, nervous breath.

Brad’s foot flexed slightly, his toes curling just above, and the tiny man watched, paralyzed by the sight. Any misstep, any shift of Brad’s attention, and that enormous foot could come down without a second thought, flattening him in an instant. Brad wasn’t mad; he wasn’t even aware of the real stakes of this “game.” Yet the sheer danger of his unawareness turned every playful call and movement into a life-or-death gamble for the tiny figure below.

Brad’s head dipped down briefly as he scanned the room, his face a wall of curiosity, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

“Where are you, little guy?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the walls.

Brad took a step down to look more thoroughly, nearly missing his tiny friend as he stepped away, unaware his prize was under his nose this whole time.

DEBRIS (2024)

Brad yawned, rubbing the back of his neck as he shuffled out of bed, barely awake. The early morning light seeped through the blinds, casting a faint glow over his messy room. With a lazy stretch, he planted his bare feet on the hardwood floor, the soles picking up traces of lint, crumbs, and grit. Without a second thought, he opened the door and padded down the hallway, already picturing his first cup of coffee.

Meanwhile, his roommate was in a silent panic. Reduced to the size of an insect overnight, he found himself staring up in horror as Brad’s massive foot loomed above. Before he could scream, the rough, calloused sole slammed down, pinning him helplessly. He was embedded in the warm, slightly damp surface of Brad’s foot, his tiny form plastered between the faint ridges of Brad’s skin, mixed in with the detritus from the floor. The smell of stale sweat and dust filled his senses, suffocating him as he twisted and struggled, only to realize that the grime binding him to Brad’s sole was far stronger than he was.

Brad, blissfully unaware of the tiny man now plastered to his foot, continued his morning routine. Each step was a thunderous impact for his trapped roommate, a jarring quake that drove him deeper into the grooves of Brad’s sole.

At the top of the stairs, Brad paused, stretching again and scratching his chest, letting out another yawn. The tiny figure on his sole, disoriented but still conscious, gasped for air in the brief reprieve, only to be thrown into a new wave of chaos as Brad descended the steps. Each step down was a brutal, unpredictable plunge, the sharp angles of Brad’s foot pressing his roommate into new crevices, each footfall more punishing than the last.

By the time Brad reached the kitchen, his roommate had long since given up hope of escaping on his own. As Brad moved around, preparing his coffee, he stomped and shifted his weight on the cold tile, unwittingly grinding his roommate against his foot with each casual step.

Finally, coffee in hand, Brad ambled into the living room, settling onto the couch with a satisfied sigh. He lifted his left foot and rested it on his knee, unknowingly giving his roommate a brief glimpse of freedom—a chance to see the towering, familiar surroundings of the living room. Pressed firmly against the rough surface of Brad’s sole, his tiny roommate could only flail and gasp, his vision blurred as he looked out across a world that was once ordinary but now impossibly vast.

Brad was lost in his phone, scrolling idly, completely unaware of the desperate, bug-sized figure clinging to the bottom of his foot. Each swipe of his thumb, every sip of coffee, only served to emphasize the vastness of the oblivious world Brad inhabited, a world where his tiny roommate was nothing more than another speck of dust, helplessly glued to the rough, indifferent surface of his foot.

CROC (2024)

As Brad’s roommate, Joe, skulked around the vast caverns of his giant’s Crocs, he couldn’t help but marvel at their sheer enormity. What had begun as a simple, curious exploration had quickly morphed into something almost hypnotic. The dark recesses of the Crocs beckoned him forward, each pit marked by the unmistakable indentations left by Brad’s toes. Every ridge, every groove seemed to hold a story, a testament to the sheer weight and presence of his towering roommate. The pungent scent of worn rubber mingled with the faint musk of Brad’s feet, filling the air in thick waves that clung to every breath Joe took.

Brad hadn’t stirred yet this morning; his telltale snores had rumbled from the bedroom before Joe had shrunk himself. It seemed harmless enough to indulge in this little adventure while his giant roommate remained blissfully unaware. Joe knew Brad’s weekend habits all too well. He’d probably sleep in and then head out later, groggy but determined to shake off last night’s exploits. A part of Joe knew he should grow back, call it a morning, and keep this curious little adventure to himself. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet.

The intoxicating power of Brad’s scent held Joe in a daze, keeping him rooted in place as he basked in the sheer, overwhelming scale of everything around him. He wandered further, venturing down into one of the toe imprints, where the rubber walls rose high above his head, as he traced his fingers along the rough surface where Brad’s skin had pressed so many times. He almost felt like he was inside Brad’s footprint, surrounded by the traces of his roommate’s daily life. Even though this entire thing was a secret, a bizarre act he couldn’t even begin to explain to Brad if he got caught, the thrill of being here, right in the heart of his gigantic roommate’s personal space, was hard to deny.

The morning light started to creep in, casting faint rays across the Crocs. A slight anxiety began to prick at him. Brad might be up soon, and as much as he wanted to explore more, Joe knew it was time. He could still feel the lingering heat from Brad’s foot from last night, trapped in the rubber like a ghostly reminder of his roommate’s oblivious power.

Just as Joe turned to make his way back, a loud ring echoed from the bedroom. His stomach dropped. He froze, hearing the groggy “Hello…?” that boomed through the air as his colossal roommate answered his phone from behind the door.

Joe’s pulse quickened. He knew he’d never be able to scramble out of the Croc and grow back to normal size in time; he’d have to rely on Brad staying put. Straining to listen, he held his breath, hoping against hope that his friend wasn’t about to—

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Brad’s deep voice rumbled through the walls, “just give me a moment, I’ll be right out.”

Joe’s heart raced as he felt two powerful thuds vibrate through the floor—Brad was up, getting dressed. Desperate, Joe sprinted toward the back of the Croc, his only hope to escape and hide before Brad’s colossal form closed in. If he even noticed him. But just as he reached the halfway point inside the shoe, the mighty door creaked open, and Brad’s towering figure filled the doorway.

“Hey, Joe, I’m heading out with Dan,” Brad called out, stopping just outside Joe’s room. Hearing no response, he shrugged, assuming Joe was already out. He turned, his eyes falling on his signature Crocs lying by the door, a perfect choice for a quick trip out. Brad’s steps grew closer, the ground trembling beneath Joe as he realized his friend was heading directly toward him.

As Brad’s form loomed high above, Joe tripped, stumbling on the unforgiving rubber of Brad’s Croc just as his roommate’s massive feet settled right outside. Shadows stretched over him as Brad’s foot hovered, the size and weight of it dawning with terrifying clarity. Joe’s heart hammered as he looked up, all pretense gone—he didn’t care if Brad found him out or not; he was not going through this today.

“Brad! Brad! Down here! Look, please!” Joe yelled, his voice straining as he waved his arms frantically. But Brad remained oblivious, his attention elsewhere, and there wasn’t even a flicker of recognition.

Joe’s pleas turned into screams, his voice rising in sheer panic as Brad’s foot lifted and angled toward the Croc. He screamed at the top of his lungs, but it was no use. In an instant, Brad’s rough, immense sole settled down, pressing Joe into the rubber with the full weight of his massive foot, trapping him in place as he prepared for a quick coffee run, utterly unaware of his tiny friend beneath him.