Donnie always enjoyed eating lunch in the park across the street from his downtown office job. He wasn't fond of small talk, so eating here not only satisfied his daily vitamin D requirement, but saved him from the awkwardness of lunchtime break room chatter.
He was proud of himself, he had come a long way in a relatively short period of time, from the depth of depression, to the beginnings of a new life.
He'd managed to find a relatively clean and affordable apartment not too far from work, and had settled into a comfortable new routine. All things considered, he was doing well compared to a year ago, when it all fell apart.
Sarah Wexler, a name that would forever live in infamy as long a Donnie would live. She was his first love, the woman he was set to spend the rest of his life with, and the monster that destroyed it all, in one short night.
They met in high school, Grade 10 to be exact. Donnie was never very good at talking to girls, which was why he and Sarah had hit it off so well. She was shy, introverted and bookish, and he was short, awkward and rail thin, with a frame easily swallowed up by his oversized jacket.
They'd hit it off well, and the rest was supposed to be, as they say, history.
High school came and went, as did college, yet despite the odds, Sarah and Donnie stayed together, a picture-perfect romance. Perhaps it was their preference for staying in rather than going out, their small and intimate social circle, or simply the fact that Sarah wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Whatever the reason, they had beaten the odds and endured the long game. Their reward would be the quaint, simple, yet beautiful wedding and a lifetime of memories to share they'd both always wanted.
Sarah had it all planned right down to the last centerpiece. It was the wedding she had dreamed of since she was a little girl. A library themed wedding, with an arch built out of old books, seating tags fashioned after library book stickers, even their wedding cake was made to look like a pile of old books.
They would have three children, and after they'd saved up enough for a down payment on a small house in the country, Sarah would renovate a little shed in the backyard into her own personal little nook. They would have a cute garden and raise chickens, goats and ducks. Their children would be connected to the land, with an honest work ethic and old world values. There would be a coy pond and a little greenhouse for flowers and herbs.
Donnie would come home from work, sweep his three daughters up into his arms, and read to them while she finished supper.
It was going to be the picture perfect, most wonderful life she could imagine.
And then she ruined it all.
Sarah had not really wanted a wedding shower, let alone a bachelorette party to begin with. She didn't drink, wasn't a fan of staying out late, and couldn't really even tolerate large crowds for very long without feeling worn and exhausted. But Heather, her ‘bestie’ and maid of honour, had all but insisted.
Sarah had always played it safe, she was a ‘good girl’, she deserved one last chance at a good time before tying herself down to a lifetime of monotony.
Sarah didn't really see it that way, but had caved under pressure, and agreed to let Heather do her thing, permitting her to a “simple and lowkey” get-together.
The night started off simple enough, a small, intimate gathering of Sarah's closest friends and a few of her cousins meeting for drinks at a quaint little bar. Sarah even allowed herself a glass of wine or two…or three.
Drinks and shower games gave way to strippers and exotic dancers, and before Sarah knew it, she was far over her head, dabbling in strange and dangerous territory. Their small, intimate social gathering exploded into the wildest night Sarah ever knew, and Sarah indulged in every bit of the devil's decadent desserts.
She shoved dollar bills on tight, skimpy underwear worn by muscle bound men with glistening, fragrant, oil rubbed skin. She danced on stage while exotic Boy toys gyrated and danced around her. She licked chocolate syrup off muscle bound, hairless chests, and screamed and giggled with her wedding party as they stared up at mostly naked men dancing around a pole to club beats.
It all felt innocent enough, until of course it wasn't.
Edwardo, well that was his state name anyhow, was supposed to be a joke, a personal escort hired by the girls to show Sarah a good time, that was it.
He was supposed to sweep her off her feet, give her a personal lap dance and whisk her off to the back room, all in good fun.
It was, as Heather later insisted, supposed to just be a joke. Nobody, Sarah included, suspected it would go as far as it had.
But the beat of the music, the fragrance of pheromones, and the alcohol lowering ambitions brought Sarah to a fever pitch, unlocking a lifetime of repressed emotions. What had resulted was a passionate, sweaty, dream shattering affair, that would rob Donnie of the life he'd been building, and Sarah of the fist she'd intended to reserve for Donnie.
Nobody in the wedding party ever fessed up to the act, but pictures had been taken and shared and had gone viral. The entire night had been shared for the world to see, on various social media accounts.
There was no denying it, there was no defense, not that Sarah could even think of one had she tried.
The blowout was fierce, passionate and quick, the result, a complete breakdown in communication and the end of a decade long romance and the shattering of a future that was never meant to be.
That led Donnie to where he was currently. New apartment, new job, new life. It had taken nearly a year, and months of therapy to get here, but he was finally happy with where he was, he had to completely cut Sarah out of his life, the memory of what they had, and the pain of losing what they could have had was too much. There was just too much at stake to risk letting her back in.
“Hey Donnie.” Sarah's voice was absolutely unmistakable. It was quiet, middle ranged with a familiar nasally quality to it.
Donnie’s eyes remained on his phone, thumbing through social media, one short video at a time. In his other hand he held the remains of an apple, mostly picked clean leaving nothing but core and seeds, tiny brown oval shaped dots filled with cyanide, an apparently harmless little thing with a poisonous center, just like Sarah.
“I…um…drive by here a lot, and noticed you like to eat outside. I'm not stalking you or anything, honest.” Sarah quickly pointed across the way to a parked car, a small Chevy cruze, gold in color with rust creeping up on the wheel wells. This was likely some small effort to prove the legitimacy of her claim.
Donnie kept his eyes on his phone, thumbing aggressively through videos without taking time to comprehend what was being presented.
Sarah sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Donnie, please just talk to me?”
Nothing. Donnie had to stick to his guns, this was part of the healing process. There was nothing Sarah could say now he hadn't already heard, and nothing she could say that would take back what was done. The danger of listening to her, far outweighed the benefit of whatever excuse or apology she had to offer.
“I just want to talk, can't you just give me that? Please?” Sarah's voice hinged on the edge of despair, there was a tickle in her throat as she felt a well of tears attempting to force their way to the surface. She turned, gathered herself, then looked back to an empty bench.
Donnie stood, making his way to the garbage. His office had a passcode Sarah didn't know, all he had to do was get there and he was home free. He chucked the apple core and empty brown paper bag into the iron bin, then made for the path, quickening his pace when he heard shuffling footsteps behind him.
“Donnie, I really just want to talk. Please, can you just give me that? I know you're probably still angry, and you have that right, but I just need…I just have to talk.” Sarah was frustrated now, Donnie could tell from the way her voice cracked. Sarah didn't yell often, it was as if her voice didn't quite have the ability to even reach that level.
When Donnie quickened his steps, his face twisting into a bitter scowl, fists tightening into white knuckled balls, the decision Sarah had been mulling over was sealed. Out of her purse came a small, black and grey remote control, with two simple buttons. She looked around to assure the coast was clear, pointed the remote at Donnie, and closed her eyes, thumb pressing down on the green button.
“I'm sorry Donnie, I really didn't want it to go down this way, but you're not leaving me much of a choice.” Sarah whispered, as a concentrated red beam shot out from the small device, hitting Donnie square in the center of his back.
Donnie felt a sharp pain in his back like being stung by a wasp, he let out a sharp hiss, and reached back to slap his back with his hand, but never quite made it that far before his vision grew hazy, his head began to spin, and he felt himself falling.
Sarah opened her eyes in a panic, her heart pounded like a hummingbird's wings, each beat sending tremors through her chest, the rapid, uneven rhythm causing her body to teeter on the edge of fight, flight, or collapse.
He was gone.
“M…maybe it missed and…” Sarah whimpered, praying that maybe Donnie had escaped. She looked through thick glasses to where he had just been, waking with quickened paces over. Sure enough, on the cobblestone path, between her black, suede low heel VIVAIA short boots, lay a small, prone, unconscious Donnie, reduced to the size of a small mouse, no taller than her finger.
“It worked?” Sarah gasped, staring down at Donnie, then quickly to the remote in her hand. “Oh my God, it worked!” she nearly screamed, almost dropping the remote in her state of panic.
No.
She would need that later if she wanted to restore him to normal.
Sarah fumbled with the small black and grey device, with cold, clammy, sweaty hands she put it back into her small, brown leather purse, then looked down once more to the tiny, toy sized man laying on his side at her feet.
She felt her breath leaving, unable to replenish it fast enough, her breathing now fast and shallow as she fought the urge to turn and run.
It worked, she'd shrunken him. It wasn't supposed to work, but it did. Now he was small, helpless and completely and utterly at her mercy.
“Mmmmmmm…” Donnie groaned, slowly starting to stir, a sound she only just heard over the white noise of the park around her.
He was starting to wake up.
Sarah's eyes drifted away from Donnie, to the trees, birds and squirrels all around them. All now threats to Donnie’s life. She couldn't run, she couldn't leave him now, not like this. She had to face him, face the absolute rage and anger that would likely come when he realized what she had done. Somehow, that was the first thing on her mind, rather than the potential consequences she would face if anyone found out what she'd done.
“Oh God, what do I. What am I supposed to do?” Sarah looked back to Donnie, crouching down on her haunches to get a little closer to Donnie. She wanted to reach out and touch him to see if he was real, but couldn't bring herself to do it, as if he was a hot coal that had just fallen out of the fire.
“My head…” Donnie’s voice was small and high, but still very much his. Right away he could tell something was off. Things sounded wrong, and his whole body ached and there was a terrible ringing in his ears.
He sat up, shielding his eyes from the light and waited for his vision to clear from the hazy blur. A cool breeze swept over Donnie, the uneven surface beneath his hands felt strangely vast, each dip and ridge pressing into him like a rough, alien landscape. Blinking, he stood, or at least tried to, his balance was off, causing him to fall back to his rear end.
“Urg, my head.” He rubbed his arms as a dull ache settled in his limbs.
The world around him seemed... off. The trees stretched impossibly high, their branches swaying like distant canopies. A leaf skittered past, its crisp edges crackling like paper in a silent room. Donnie frowned. It was just a leaf, wasn’t it? But it was so big. Too big. His fingers brushed against the ground, tracing the familiar roughness of cobblestone, yet the gaps between the stones gaped like trenches. A deep, rhythmic sound rumbled through the air. Footsteps. Heavy. Distant, yet powerful enough to send a tremor through his chest. His breath hitched. He turned his hands over, staring at them—unchanged, normal. But nothing else was. His pulse pounded as realization crept in, cold and undeniable. The world hadn’t changed. He had.
“Donnie, sweetie, maybe don't try to stand so soon.” That voice was familiar, though where it was once soft and gentle, instead now resonated all around him, each overwhelming syllable like a grand melody from a vast echo chamber.
It was Sarah, only it couldn't be. Her voice could barely raise above normal speaking volume. “Sarah?”
Sarah, the petite woman he'd known so long, who barely stood up his chest at 5 '2, now loomed above him like a great statue of an ancient colossus. He followed enormous black suede boots to long, pale legs that fed onto a dark blue floral skirt. Pencil thin arms, now thick like giant douglas firs rested on her knees, white blouse a cute polka dot pattern hugged modest breasts, now absolutely enormous both easily each several thousand tonnes. Finally, her cute, oval shaped face peered down at him, black hair cascading down her shoulders, framing her worried expression, delicate lips curled into a slight frown as warm Hazel eyes narrowed to half moons as she watched him closely.
He couldn't speak, move, or even draw a full breath. Sarah loomed before him; absolutely enormous in every imaginable way. His Sarah, the small, mousy, socially awkward woman he'd spent half his life with, now towered over him like a divine colossus.
"I… what did… how did… what did you do?" Donnie managed to squeak out, his voice trembling and fading as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision blurred at the edges, and his hands began to shake uncontrollably. The world seemed to slow, and as the overwhelming weight of her presence pressed in, he felt himself slipping into darkness.
Sarah's hand slapped over her mouth as she held back a gasp. She winched, watching Donnie collapse once more, resisting the urge to reach down and catch him for fear of hurting him.
“Shit.” Sarah cried out, looking around quickly once more before drawing her attention back to Donnie before letting out a tired breath, “Well, at least he's speaking to me again? That's a start.”
Word Count: 2259
Added: 03/29/2025
Updated: 04/04/2025
Chapter Notes:
Sarah is confronted with the aftermath of her actions and the gravity of the situation she has found herself in. As she grapples with guilt and fear for Donnie's safety, she must navigate the complexity of her emotions and the sudden appearance of a familiar face, Lila Montgomery. Tensions rise as Sarah is forced to keep her secret about Donnie’s shrunken state, all while facing uncomfortable truths about herself and the fractured relationships she now has to deal with. The quiet and personal moments of reflection, mixed with a sudden, unexpected encounter, create a sense of urgency and unease as Sarah struggles to keep everything from falling apart.
Sarah sat back on her haunches, looking up at the sky, her head spinning from the reality of what she had just done.
Donnie was laying on the ground at her feet, as small as a mouse, unconscious, and it was all her fault.
“Oh Jeez…oh jeez…what am I going to do…is he even breathing?” Sarah’s voice seeped from a clenched jaw as her eyes remained closed tightly, blocking out the gorgeous midday sun.
It was otherwise an absolutely picture perfect day. 75, sunny, hardly a cloud in the sky, low humidity, moderate UV index, with a gentle, warm wind blowing in from the south. These were the days they used to sit outside on the balcony and read, or take a walk in a park not unlike this one. They would talk, or sometimes just listen to the birds singing and watch the squirrels scurry from tree to tree, engaged in their own little social engagements.
Birds.
Sarah sprang to life, gentle hazel eyes wide open now as she looked back to Donnie, relieved he was still there.
Gulls, crows and other omnivorous predators would make short work of Donnie now, and could easily snatch him right out from under her nose if she wasn’t paying attention. “Stupid, stupid, stupid Sarah…” She cursed herself, hand resting over her heart as she waited for it to stop attempting to tear itself right out of her chest in anticipation.
‘Pick him up…don’t just leave him there, stupid.’ Sarah’s inner voice berated her hesitation, causing her to reach out toward Donnie with a timid hand. Immediately however she pulled her hand back, examining it as though it were a sterile surgical tool in a dentist's office.
How could she just pick him up like this? How fragile were his bones? What if she broke an arm or a leg? How would she know how hard to squeeze, how gentle did she have to be? Were his bones like toothpicks, or worse? She had no way of knowing. Sarah examined her clean, well kept, clear painted glossy nails. Were they too long, rough, jagged? She remembered accidently scratching him once when they were cuddling, if she did that now, she might take an arm clean off?
She found herself chewing nervously on her thumbnail, a dirty habit she had all but managed to overcome, save for moments of high anxiety, and this was about as nervous as she had felt for some time.
The distant chatter of conversation, and the honking of a car horn in the far distance broke her from her self imposed stupor, and directed her attention back to Donnie.
“Oh babe, this was such a mistake…why wouldn’t you just hear me out? Why did it have to come to this?” Sarah whispered, reaching out to gently roll Donnie over to his back, immediately recoiling for fear of hurting him the moment he rolled over, with just a gentle nudge from her forefinger. “Oh god…oh god…okay. I have to do this, I don’t have a choice now.” Sarah attempted to build herself up for what she had to do next.
She was running out of time, somebody was bound to come along eventually, she was lucky enough nobody had seen her by this point. She was taking an incredible risk doing this out in the open, especially with the evidence sitting right in her purse.
Sarah took several controlled breaths, slow inhale through the nose, pause, gentle exhalation from the mouth, before stealing her resolve and reaching down to gently coax Donnie into her cupped palm, grimacing as his unconscious body flopped over effortlessly with only the most gentle application of force.
“Shit…sorry babe.” Sarah winced, immediately cupping her second under the first for stability, and forming a wall of flesh around him with her two hands, to stop him from rolling off, or blowing away.
Carefully, Sarah stood, keeping her hands close to her chest, as if cradling a glass egg, or a single soap bubble. Her tongue poked through her lips, slightly to the side as she concentrated on slow, careful, gentle movements. “Oh my god, you’re so tiny Babe…I didn’t realize you would get this small?” Sarah risked moving one hand, but kept the other tight to her chest, and gently touched Donnie with her index finger. Gently, she rubbed his back with just the tip of her forefinger. “Babe…don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” She whispered.
“Sarah? Sarah Wexler?” A familiar but distant voice shook Sarah to her core.
Instinctively she closed her hand into a gentle fist, making sure not to crush poor Donnie, and held her other hand protectively over just in case. Her guardian spirit leaping straight to the defensive even without processing what was happening, and who was calling her name.
Sarah blinked, looking around as a rabbit weary of a stalking owl, until her eyes caught the approach of a woman, still a short walk away, down the cobblestone path.
“Crap.” Sarah cursed, looking down to her gently clenched fist.
She couldn’t let anyone see Donnie, not like this. Worse still, if he woke up now, he would be in an absolute panicked state. She couldn’t risk him crying out or risking harm to himself in a panic. Not until she had a chance to talk to him, one on one. That’s all she wanted, and whomever this was could ruin it all. So, without another option, Sarah pulled her purse up, and gently set Donnie down next to the compact mirror, a small handful of hair ties, a few ‘emergency’ tampons and a few neatly folded tissues. She hadn’t time to worry about if the tissues were used or not, but bit her bottom lip, hoping he wouldn’t wake up before she had a chance to take him out. She hesitated to think of how terrifying it would be to wake up alone, in the darkness of her purse, surrounded by random objects.
Sarah let her purse fall back to her side, regretful of this as her mind went straight to Donnie and the jarring feeling of a sickening fall and sudden abrupt stop. She had little time to dwell on this, as the stranger, now close enough to recognize was none other than Lila Montgomery.
Lia was to be a bridesmaid, she was Donnie’s cousin and one of those bridesmaids that you added to emphasise new family connections. Lia was tall, at least 5’10, with a strong, athletic build and a commanding presence. She had broad shoulders and long, toned legs with a confident and poised posture that spilled over into her long purposeful stride.
Wavy dark brown hair just past her shoulders, fair skin kissed by the sun, and deep green eyes framed by long lashes. Lila of course had a sharp, angular jawline, capping it all off with casual yet stylish clothes tailored for her high thighs and long legs. She was an absolute powerhouse, standing a good bit over Sarah’s small, mousy frame. And approached with a warm sense of familiarity that brought her right up close and personal into Sarah’s small bubble of personal space.
“Lila?” Sarah forced her words out, subconsciously clutching her small, quaint purse by the strap. This was absolutely the wrong person to run into at the complete wrong time.
“Oh my god, Sarah, I haven’t seen you in ages. How the hell are you?” Lila stood close, casual, feet apart, slightly leaning in, arms hanging at her sides, occasionally raising as she tended to speak with her hands.
Sarah remembered Lila well, highschool volleyball star, with a scholarship thanks to her athletic prowess. She was about as mean as a newborn puppy, but had the body and soul of an athlete. Hazel eyes drifted to her purse as Sarah kept her ears open for any faint hint of a voice, a cry, or a scream. She hated to think of what Lila could do to her, if given the right motivation.
“Heh, yeah ... about a year.” Sarah rubbed the back of her neck, making occasional eye contact. She hated close talkers, they made her uncomfortable, especially when she had to crane her neck upward to maintain eye contact.
She would know Donnie worked nearby.
She would make the connection.
She would realize something was out of place, this was bad.
“I know. Shame about what happened, I was really rooting for you two.” Lila, never one to pussyfoot over a sensitive topic, shifted her posture, crossing her arms over her generously proportioned chest.
Sarah froze, unsure how to even respond to that.
The video had gone viral, family, friends, everyone had seen it, Lila had even been there that night…she knew how it all went down. Why would she bring it up, so openly, so sharply, so blunt?
Unable to find any words, Sarah just laughed nervously and nodded, offering back a forced smile, shifting her weight slightly and looking down and to the side. “You…have no idea how much I wish I could take that night back, Lila.”
Lila took notice of Sarah’s discomfort, but smiled, trying to keep the mood light, “But yeah, I didn’t expect to run into you here. How have you been?”
Sarah bit her lip before looking up for a brief moment, her gaze flickering nervously between Lila and her purse, “Oh, um, good? Yeah, I’ve been okay. You know, just… keeping busy.” Sarah shuffled a little, hands clasping and unclasping nervously as she looked to the ground.
Lila’s warm smile grew, she nodded as if trying to affirm what Sarah had just said, doing her best to keep the conversation feeling normal, “That’s good. Really food. So… um, how’s everything going? I mean, it’s been so long since…well…you know…I hope you’re doing better now?” Lila laughed awkwardly, unsure if bringing that up was a mistake or not.
Sarah stiffened, her face flush red and she let out a soft, uncomfortable sigh, “Yeah, that… well um…” Sarah glanced away, shoulders slumping as she shuffled her feet. “You know, life…. Life just kind of…well it was a mess but… I’m moving on, best I can.” Sarah cleared her throat, trying to find words, any words to fill dead air.
“Oh, totally. I can’t even imagine… I mean, things really took a turn, huh?” Lila offered a tight smile, hoping to keep the conversation polite but genuine.
Sarah’s cheeks continued to flush, her gaze dropping back to her feet as thin fingers fumbled with the strap of her purse. “Yeah, well. I… I really messed up. I… it wasn’t… it wasn’t like I meant for that to happen, I just…” Sarah’s voice faded, she was desperately trying to swallow the memory Lila was forcing her to relive. Her shoulders stiffened, a mix of built and embarrassment.
“Hey, I’m not here to make you feel bad. I know things weren’t easy for you then, and, well... I’m sure it’s hard to, uh, face it now.” Lila shifted, her stance softening in an attempt to appear more open and less judgmental.
Sarah’s eyes darted up to meet Lila’s briefly, before looking away, her lips pressed into a tight thin line, “Yeah... it’s hard. I just... I don’t even know what I was thinking. I really hurt Donnie, and I’ve felt terrible about it ever since. I know it doesn’t really, you know, make up for it or anything, but I… I’m sorry.” Sarah’s words came quickly, all fighting for precedence as they poured out of her mouth. The weight on her chest was heavy, oppressive, causing her to feel faint and light headed.
Lila’s posture stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, as if the apology had taken her off guard. In the heat of the moment, Lila had been quite vocal and said many harsh things that night, so Sarah’s guarded stance was understandable, “I haven’t spoken with Donnie very much since that night, he’s been keeping a low profile. I wish I could tell you how he was taking this all, but honestly, I don’t really know.”
Sarah honestly hadn’t expected to ever see her again, let alone have a conversation with any of Donnie’s family. “Oh…s…so you haven’t been keeping in contact with him?” Sarah felt a weight lift off her chest, it made her feel guilty for the relief it brought to know Lila might not know Donnie worked nearby, and maybe wouldn’t connect the dots after all.
Lila shook her head, “I think he’s mad at everyone who was there that night…we all had a part to play in it…I saw where things were headed and I didn’t do anything to stop it? You know? I think he’ll talk to me eventually…but….”
Sarah bit her lip, her heart sank, her actions had not only destroyed their decade long romance, but broke a family apart as well? “I… Lila I’m so sorry…”
“Well, that means something. And... I’m glad you’re doing okay now. I hope... things are getting better, for you, I mean.” Lila’s face shuffled through too many emotions all at once to really read how she was processing the information she had just been given. While her words hadn’t expressed acceptance of Sarah’s apology, her stance had softened.
Sarah nodded quickly, her voice quiet and strained, “Lila I….”
“Well, it was... really nice seeing you, Sarah. Take care of yourself.” Lila began to walk away, slowly at first, then faster, long powerful, purposeful strides, she looked back over her shoulder, giving a final faint smile in an attempt to leave things on a peaceful note.
“Yeah…take care…: Sarah watched Lila walk away, hands still holding her purse strap tightly, her nervous smile fading to a pained expression of guilt. “I’m such an idiot.” Sarah whimpered, as she shuffled back in the direction of her parked car.
Chapter 3: Schrödinger’s Ex
Word Count: 2110
Added: 03/29/2025
Updated: 04/04/2025
Chapter Notes:
Sarah finally arrives home, but with distractions at every turn, her rising anxiety threatens to unravel her composure. All she has to do is make it to her bedroom, but with her forbidden stowaway in tow, every distraction feels like a risk. Meanwhile, Donnie awakens to a reality he struggles to comprehend.
Sarah Wexler sat in the driver's seat of her matte red 2006 Chevy Malibu, hazel eyes fixed on the purse leaning against the passenger's seat, still… silent… unmoving. She’d almost expected something to come crawling out of it, like a hand reaching up to grab her by the throat.
It was silly, ridiculous, ludacris. Donnie wasn’t going to leap out like some alien face hugger. He was small, vulnerable and terrified, curled up in a ball wondering what had happened.
Maybe.
Probably.
Sarah sighed, sinking into the ‘premium cloth seats’ of her rusting old car, hands rubbing tired eyes as she exhaled deeply. “Okay…one step at a time…pick up the purse…take it inside.”
Her words felt louder than she’d intended in the quiet of her car. Ambient neon lighting from the underground parking garage’s compact fluorescents gave hazer late evening vibes.
In the quiet, Sarah looked to her purse once more, a simple tan brown leather purse with a short strap. Maybe if she listened real closely, if she stopped breathing to remove all white noise, then maybe she would be able to hear if Donnie had woken up.
Nothing.
“Maybe he crawled out?” Sarah thought out loud, the idea turning razor blades in her gut. She brought a thin hand toward her belly and held it there, sinking further down in her seat.
He could have crawled out while she was chatting with Lila. Made his way to a police officer or a passerby. They could be on their way to arrest her now.
Or maybe he’d fallen prey to a racoon, seagull, or stray cat? Sarah’s eyes shot open, wide as saucers. Donnie could be dead, in pieces, or digesting in the belly of some park vermin.
She quickly reached for her purse, anxiety was a terrible mistress. Until she looked, saw him with her own eyes and confirmed he was there, alive and well, Donnie was both alive and dead, here and not here, and even though logic dictated there was likely no chance he would have been able to escape, she had to know.
Carefully Sarah brought the cute little purse onto her lap, unzipped the main compartment she had stowed Donnie, separate from where she’d placed the remote, and peaked into the darkness.
Donnie, of course, was right where she had left him, laying on his stomach on the small bed of crumpled up tissues. The tiny darling looked absolutely adorable, nestled into his makeshift bed like some sort of hamster. Her heart fluttered and she covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh babe, I’m so sorry.” She whispered, not wanting to wake him just yet. She wasn’t quite ready to deal with him. And what a deal it would be, as Donnie was very likely to be quite livid when he woke up.
Once finished fawning over her miniature little ex, Sarah carefully zipped the compartment back up, pulled her key’s from the ignition, and stepped out of the Car, footsteps echoing off the concrete parking garage floor.
‘He’ll be so mad.’ She mused, clutching the strap of her purse as she made for the stairs. ‘I mean, you did just shrink him, stuff him in a purse and take him home. That’s not normal Sarah…people don’t just do that to other people.’ Her own thoughts plagued her, causing her to walk faster, eyes focused on the ground, watching her own feet as she hurried with quick, short steps.
Donnie had a temper, not a dangerous one, but he had a temper. Their relationship hadn’t been perfect, but he’d never given her any reason to be afraid, even at his worst. That was what she loved most about him, even when angry, he was the same man he always was. There was no Jeckle and Hyde with him.
She felt a pain in her chest, shaking her head quickly to force away the memories. Thinking about the past hurt, so she tried her best not to.
The lobby was empty, save for Mr. Jenkins from the 3rd floor, sitting on one of the two recliners, next to the fake decorative olive tree by the front parlor. He was reading the newspaper, something Sarah had only seen people over the age of 50 really ever do. She smiled, waving politely as he looked up, nodded, then adjusted his glasses and fanned out the paper, likely to straighten the floppy pages.
“Package came today for Kendra.” He said, matter of fact.
Sarah stopped, clutched the strap of her purse and offered Mr. Jenkins a crooked half smile, “Oh…I can grab it for her?” Sarah hesitated, then half turned in the direction of the mail room.
The old man cleared his throat with a grumbly rumble, and lowered the top right corner of the page to reveal a downcast expression as he looked through the bottom of his eyeglasses. “She was just down to get it.”
Sarah blinked several times, then looked back, Mr Jenkins wore an off brown and white dress shirt with all but the two two buttons done up, dark brown slacks, and a pair of loafers. Sarah affectionately referred to this as “The Grandpa” ensemble, as it reminded her of how her grandfather used to dress. “Oh… well, no need I suppose?” She offered back a cute smile, her eyes closing and nose wrinkled.
Why was he telling her this? To make conversation? Was he angry, upset? Happy? She stood, frozen in place, awkward expression and all for far too long, before she heard the rustling of paper to signal this conversation was likely over.
“S… see you later Walter, say hello to Harriet for me?” Sarah waved goodbye with the same hand holding onto the strap of her purse, and made for the elevator.
“Sarah.” The familiar voice of Mr. Jenkins stopped Sarah in her tracks. Her hand once more grasped the strap of her purse as she pulled it near. Heart beat spiked as she turned, forcing another smile.
Did he know?
Impossible, there was no way.
“Hmm?” Calm on the outside, terrified on the inside.
It was irrational, silly and impossible. Nonetheless Sarah was absolutely convinced the next words out of this man’s mouth would directly relate to the nonexistent screaming coming from her purse.
“Tell Kendra Harriet is finished with her pants, okay?” Walter coughed, not bothering to lower his paper this time.
“Oh…er, got it!” Sarah exhaled, her shoulders dropping just a bit as she quickly moved toward the elevator, pressing the button with a little more force than necessary.
***
Kendra sat surrounded in the large, orange, corduroy beanbag chair, tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on her game of Tetris 99 on the small, pink Switch lite. She’d managed to miss Sarah’s entrance, owing to the earbuds shoved into both ears. Keen eyes however caught sight of movement as her roommate tried to scurry by, prompting the tall, honeyed-brown skinned woman to drop the console on the chair and spring to her feet.
“Sarabelle!”
Sarah froze, only a few feet from her room, so close, yet so far. “Oh, hey Kendra.”
Kendra was all about nicknames and pet names. In the short time they lived together, Sarah had earned the names, Sare-Bear, Sar-rific, Sar-sie, Sizzle, and finally Sarabelle. The last one stuck on account of how ‘small and demure’ she was, and how she reminded Kendra of a sweet southern bell.
For…some reason.
Kendra tried to suggest a few, doing her best to make "Kiki" and "K-Star" catch on, but Sarah stuck with "Kendra."
“Why the rush? You’ve been gone all day! Come spend some time with me?” Kendra’s pace soon had her beside Sarah, her long bare arm casually resting against the wall, blocking her way. Though likely unintentional, it felt to Sarah like the velvet rope at a museum.
“I’m kind of tired, I think I’m just going to go lay down?” Sarah smiled, lips pressed tightly together, hand wrapped in a death grip on the strap of her purse. She was nearly homefree, all she had to do was make it past one nosey, well meaning roommate and she could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
One long, honest, deep conversation was all she wanted, one chance to explain to Donnie how sorry she was, to plead her case. So close she could taste it, if not for the final irritating roadblock.
***
Donnie’s eyes fluttered open, straining to adjust to the darkness that consumed him. He could hear the suggestion of noise but it was loud and unspecific and seemed to come from all around. He tried to wait, figuring his eyes needed time to adjust, but only managed to see vague shapes and outlines in the near lightless void.
A pillar stretched high into the sky up and to the right, the ground beneath him was soft, like bedsheets, but tapered off when he stretched out an arm to feel, beyond was a drop it seemed, how far that went, his mind could only wonder.
“The fuck am I.” Donnie spoke, voice raspy, forced up and over a dry parched tongue, through chapped lips. “Why am I so thirsty?” He muttered next, his voice lost among the dark cave.
“... well… said….s..e…was fi..sh…wi….y… pants?” A voice, muddled and indistinct could be heard, muted by wherever he was. It was both loud and deep, and soft and muffled at the same time.
Donnie tried to stand, losing his balance on the soft ground beneath him and tumbled forward into the inky darkness. “Gah, shit….” he cursed, landing on something hard and smooth. “Oww…urg, that hurt.” Donnie groaned, pushing himself up with his arms. “Is this…glass?” He felt the surface that broke his fall, struggling to see through the veil of shadows.
Another loud, muffled voice broke his interest in whatever he was kneeling on. This time it was loud and sharp, like laughter.
“Hello? Is anybody there?” Donne called out, sitting back on his haunches, rubbing the spot his forehead made contact with the glass floor. The ‘voice’ from above continued on, paying him no heed, as another, softer but closer voice responded in muffled, garbled words.
“The hell happened to me….” He rubbed what would soon be a goose egg on his forehead, looking around as images slowly started to take shape better.
Next to the long pillar a strange outline cut through the shadows, wide at the top, thin and rounded half way down, a jagged, elongated form with faint ridges a quarter way along its length. The teeth like ridges appeared narrow and uniform with large rounded tops. Curves softened in the dim light, giving it an eerie presence that seems almost out of proportion to the space around it.
“Can anybody hear me?” Donnie called out to the voices once more, waiting, straining to discern what they were saying, it was as if someone was having a conversation from a few rooms away, only much louder, though that didn’t help him understand any more clearly.
Suddenly, a bright light shone up through the glass floor, accompanied by an ear-shattering tune that synced with the rhythmic vibrations of the floor beneath him.
“Oh, God, that’s loud!” The frightened man clawed at his ears, closed his eyes, and shook his head, doing anything he could to block out the terrible music.
Then the sky seemed to open, revealing an even brighter light that fully illuminated the room. His eyes squinted to compensate for the blinding brightness, and everything became clear.
The glass floor was a massive, rectangular smartphone; the long, smooth pillar was a tampon leaning against the wall, and the strange, toothed statue was a hairbrush.
But none of that was nearly as terrifying or attention-grabbing as what loomed above him.
Sarah; absolutely enormous, beyond comprehension, her face blocking out the sun and stars, stretching across the entire horizon, looked down at Donnie. Her expression twisted into an awkward, nervous grimace of guilt. She half-smiled before reaching down from the heavens. Her hand, fingers thicker and taller than he was, grasped the phone he was kneeling on and gently tilted it, sending him sliding back into the soft pile of tissues, what he had thought were his “bed sheets.”
“S… Sarah?” His voice cracked, his eyes wide with terror.
She quickly glanced up, scanning something, or someone, in the room with her, then looked back down, offering him a nervous smile and a finger to her lips in a silent shush. Then, she was gone, and darkness returned as she closed her purse.
“What the fuck?” Stunned, Donnie shook his head. His night vision was ruined by the sudden light, and he struggled to comprehend what he had just seen.
He was in the park, finishing his lunch.
Sarah had tried to talk to him, so he left.
And then, he woke up here?
But why was she so big? And why did everything around him look like props from a monster movie? None of this made sense.
“What the actual, donkey balls-FUCK!?”