Off the coast of Los Angelas there was an earthquake. Stuff from
the bottom of the waters rose to its top. Where Janice was swimming.
The effect was incredibly fast. One instant Janice was
floating on an inner tube in the bay, the next she was surrounded by
this weird bubbling concoction. The vapors filled the air around
her, permiated her. She felt dizzy, then giddy, as though caught in
a fast falling elevator. Suddenly she was in floundering in deep
water. No. Not so deep, only thigh high, but itshould have
been deeper. And when she opened her eyes, things were wrong. The
coast was too close, and at a funny angle. The waves looked too
far away. There was a breeze. It was quiet. And that seagull.
Then it struck her. She was wrong. She was looking down, instead of up.
And then she gasped. She was huge. Enormous. She must have been hundreds
of feet tall. The coast, which had been nearly a mile away, was now a few
short strides distant. In consternation she glanced from side to side,
as though seeking help, and then she glanced down sharply. Her bikini was
intact, but she felt horribly exposed. Dashing out of the water she stood
on the beach and looked for a place to hide.
Then it occurred to her that the beach was filled with people. People
who couldn't move fast enough to avoid her. Who she had not seen. A stange
sensation filled her gut. Not daring to look to see if she had crushed
anyone under her barefeet Janice returned to the water, and waded out into
it until the beach was far behind her.
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