The sight unbalanced something. Tears—huge, salt rivers—began to trace tracks down the giantess’s cheeks, each drop a waterfall that could have drowned worlds. She staggered back, horror and pity and something like shame storming across her features. The small woman watched as the woman who had been a looming godlet for so long collapsed onto her knees and let herself be small.
The giantess’s answer was a whisper, barely audible over the storm: “I’m lonely.” lost shrunk giantess horror better
Without warning, the giantess blinked. There was pity there now—an almost scientific curiosity edged with a slow, steady hunger. She set the tiny woman on the countertop, a cliff of laminated wood. From this new vantage, the apartment’s appliances were hulks of metal, the sink a basin wide as a quarry. The giantess reached for the phone. Her nails traced a line the width of a highway. The small woman ran. The sight unbalanced something