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5/31/2014 9:19 pm  #11

Re: The Dollhouse...

Harry's gentleness & patience with John is a nice touch, he clearly understands how weird it must be for him to take John's place as man of the house and marry his wife. I can see Harry taking John to work in his pocket, sitting John on his shoulder to watch sports and John playing between Harry's huge feet.  I can see them becoming best buddies & perhaps John calls Harry Daddy.  Just some things I imagine.

I think your trainers are magnificent and those huge feet!  I would love to be six inches tall in front of you.


6/02/2014 6:17 pm  #12

Re: The Dollhouse...

Love this story. Harry Daddy might have some man-to-man conversations with little John to make him feel better, and then keeping him safe from his own giant son. 


6/21/2014 6:52 am  #13

Re: The Dollhouse...

thanks--now a bit more

One night John had a dream that the shrinking had started again and he was now amazingly small. He was grabbing onto a rope or string for dear life, only what he was really grabbing was an eyelash. The immense eye stretched far below him; he could see himself reflected in it. The eyelid twitched and almost hit him; then it twitched again and he was knocked off and fell a couple hundred feet; abruptly he now found himself sliding down an immense nose. He screamed as he fell even more--this time landing in a bowl of cereal. It wasn't Cheerio's like in Honey I Shrunk the Kids, it was Frosted Flakes, and he was surrounded in a sea of milk, trying to climb onto one flake as deep pitched laughter came from above.

The nightmare ended and he was shaken awake, and heard a loud buzzing noise. Yes, he was stiill six inches tall and sleeping on a dollhouse bed--and on one wall of his room, there was what looked like a bird. It flew around for a couple seconds, then got back onto the wall and started to rub its legs. That was when it dawned on him that it wasn't a bird but a housefly. He had nothing to shoo it away with, aside from maybe his arms. To him, it was about a foot long, maybe a bit more. He grimaced and, finding it hard to believe he was actually doing this, he reached around the fly with both hands and pried it from the wall. Yes, his tiny hands were actually around the huge insect; he held it to his chest, it struggled and finally he went over to the window and threw it out like garbage.
It might just come back, though, he thought.

He went back to bed and could hear the fly buzzing outside for awhile, then it stopped. As he awoke the next morning, he could sense something was covering him--not just his blanket but two pieces of clothing, each of them white but darkened by dirt. They were thick and a bit smelly. It was a pair of Brad's used socks. He quickly arose out of bed and dragged them off it. They were probably too big to throw out the window. He supposed he could drag them down the stairway and then out the door.
To him, they were like an immense tent.

He started to walk and suddenly found he's collided with one of them, and he fell sprawling onto one sock, face first.That was when things got suddenly lighter--because the roof was being lifted up, and he turned onto his back to look up. It was Brad, laughing. He had apparently quietly lifted the roof and put the socks on top of his father. Before he could scramble free, the boy's right hand went over to him and his fingers curled around him, and he was lifted up. He was quickly dumped into one of the socks, which Brad had stretched out. Then Brad carried the sock into the kitchen.

A minute later, he found the sock was being turned upside down and he fell into a swimming pool--otherwise known as a dishpan full of water. He splashed around (wearing a shirt and sweatpants, which were now drenched with water) and made his way over to the side to try and get out. But Brad picked him up and placed him next to a microwave oven, and he was opening the door.

"What's going on here?," asked Harry, entering the room. As usual, Brad was huge to John, but Harry was mega huge in comparison. He looked down and saw the wet form of John next to the microwave. "Yikes! Are you all right?"

John nodded, then remembered his nods were usually too small to notice, so he waved one of his arms around in a circle. 
"Stay right there!," Harry commanded Brad, and the man rushed into a bathroom and came forth with a cordless hair dryer. He turned it on and helped to dry John off; John appreciated the warmth,

He looked up at Harry, who glared down at Brad, then Harry put his immense hands under each of the boy's armpits and lifted the boy up to his level. Brad may have seemed like a giant to John, but his arms and hands were considerably more puny than Harry's. "What DID you do to him?" Before
the boy could reply, Harry noticed one of the boy's socks next to the sink. He gently put Brad down on the floor; the boy yelled, "Ow!" though he wasn't hurt at all. He was like a hockey player being dramatic after an opposing player gave him a "check", hoping the opponent would draw a penalty.

Eileen entered and Harry explained what Brad had done. Eileen fussed over John a bit, then turned to Brad. The usual "just because you're bigger than him doesn't mean blah blah blah" chastising. "That water fun park we were gonna take you, the only way you'll get there is if you'll walk, and it's 15 miles away! And you'll have to beg for
money to get in..."

"Why should he even get to do that?," Harry said. Brad glared up at him. He almost seemed to be saying, You're not my real father. My real father is right over there. He can fit into one of my socks.

"For one thing you're going to apologize to him," said Eileen. "Go ahead."

John looked up at his son, towering above him. The boy was frowning and seemed a bit angry. He crouched down a bit to get closer but couldn't get any words out.

"Brad...," his mother said.

Brad let out a noise of disgust at his situation. He shook his head, then finally spoke softly. "I'm sorry J--, I mean, Dad. I was rough with you. I know you're small, and.."

"He is still your father," said Eileen. "You call him Dad or Father."

"I did..." (Since Harry had come into their lives, he referred to him as Harry, but John wondered if he too would have to be called Dad.)

Somewhere in a scrapbook there was a picture of John smiling, holding his new son. He had no idea the son would someday be a giant to him. 

"I'm not a toy or an animal," John said, and not for the first time. "Just because-- aw, crap..."
He turn around and punched at the microwave behind him, the tiny fist making contact with a button which let out a loud (to him) BEEP! John turned back to face his son again. He knew the raised pitch of his voice would diminish his ability to make the boy understand. He wondered if he was no longer a human being to him because of that...did he seem more like a mouse who somehow was wearing a T shirt and sweat pants? He was still the boy's father. Even if he weighed about as much as a small bag of chips.

Could Brad be controlled, or would he keep "having fun" (as he put it) with his Dad in this way? John thought at times of just leaving, whether or not he'd tell them; just somehow escaping the 'big' house and trying to survive out in the wild, with gigantic animals and humans to deal with.

There were adults who were only three feet tall due to dwarfism. They lived in a world where they had to reach up to turn a doorknob, where chairs were huge, where cars could, yes, be driven but only with raised pedals. Some adult dwarfs were barely more than knee high. But six inches tall, now, that was amazingly small. He was a Lilliputian to them.

During the times when they all were out, sometimes he would roam around the big house. Yes, there was a ladder built onto a living room coffee table so he could climb up and use the mammoth remote controls for the TV. If he went into the kitchen, the fridge would loom far above him, with no chance of him being able to open in. Food in the cabinets, also impossible to get at. (They left him some food, of course.) If he wanted to go to the second floor of the big house, well, each step was nine inches tall though he could walk up the bottom of the steel railing on one side, his miniscule feet being small enough to negotiate it, and if he got up there, the master bedroom and Brad's room were both immense. He could walk past immense sneakers and shoes cast aside on the floor, maybe climb up a blind's long string to look out the window, and so on.

But he had his own house, scaled down to his size, and that was good enough..wasn't it?

to be continued

     Thread Starter

6/21/2014 8:15 am  #14

Re: The Dollhouse...

A nice chapter, would love to see more interaction with Harry.  Have been watching your videos of your huge feet and sneakers, have been imagining myself at your feet.  Keep up the good writing.


6/21/2014 9:41 am  #15

Re: The Dollhouse...

Thanks--I will when I think of it. Here's a paragraph I just thought up:
He was slightly bigger than a mouse, but at times--those times when he wondered if that's how he was regarding as being one-- he could almost imagine himself a cartoon character who lived in a mousehole.
He wore a shirt and some short pants, and had little paws. He was bucktoothed and whiskered and his eyes were abnormally large. The background music made little plinking noises every time he blinked his eyes.
He pictured himself walking toward a mousetrap baited with cheese, only to be frightened by a loud noise. It was the cat! But unlike Tom and Jerry, he wasn't the type of mouse who could outwit a huge cat, though he could outrun one--maybe.

No, he was a human, all right, but there were times when he wondered if they thought he wasn't.

Harry had taken his place in the family it seemed, though thankfully he was a kind and gentle sort who seemed to feel sorry for John and his predicament. He used to be roughly the same size as Harry but now things were greatly amplified. Harry's sneakered feet were colossal, with thick and long shoelaces and a cushioned tongue; thick socks, long legs covered partly by summer shorts, a titanic T shirt and a huge face. It was covered by a beard that kept getting thicker, and his nose, eyes, lips, and ears were embarrassingly huge to John. Eileen's body was similarly immense, as was Brad's. Even a new born baby would seem to weigh tons.

Any of them could have accidentally (or on purpose?) broken his arms or legs with the slightest effort. Brad's mischievousness could be laughed off (yeah, right...) as "he's just a kid, playing around, taking advantage..." Eileen and Harry had to keep telling him to be careful with John.

John actually wondered if it would be advantageous to have the dollhouse put into a locked room. Only Harry or Eileen could have the key. The would deliver food and change the toilet's refuse,
Otherwise, John could just live in the room and NOT be pestered by Brad. That would be prison, he pondered. Yet what was this?


     Thread Starter

6/21/2014 10:00 am  #16

Re: The Dollhouse...

Brad's playfulness is to dangerous for John, he could easily be severly injured and Brad does not seem to care. John would be safer if his dollhouse was somewhere safe he would not be in any danger.  I remember your excellent story "Cut Down To Size" which had similar themes.


7/11/2014 1:37 am  #17

Re: The Dollhouse...

I didn't read the whole thing, but the main normal-sized characters in all your stories seem to be boys. I've noticed this pattern in all the stories of yours that I've tried to read, Shrinking man. With a story called "The Dollhouse" one would expect a girl character to be involved, and it was kind of a letdown for me to see only boy characters.

You should take a shot at writing stories with brother and sister characters, so the people who like giant boys are satisfied, and the giantess lovers get their fix, too.

Shrunk around a brother and sister is my favorite genre, but it is so underused!

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