You bolt for it. Ignoring the darkening shadow around you, you run with all the speed your fright can muster. Only when the odor of your Mother's foot reaches you do you look up. Her big manicured toe looms a mere fifty feet above, barely an inch on your scale. You manage to run faster now that you've glimpsed your fate, but not nearly fast enough.
The soft callouses of your Mother's toe first knock you sprawling....and then push you flat. The pressure bursts your lungs and then your body. Your last scream is lost beneath your Mother's mighty foot, and your remains are naught but a red dot on the underside of her toe.
She walks on your remains to the door and takes the sandals off. Your remains stay smeared to her toe throughout the night and she will never know what happened to you, nor find out that she was the cause for her son's death.
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