After dinner, Sam headed out to the living room, where Greg and Zeke were watching television.
“What are you guys watching?” Sam asked.
“Just a soccer game,” replied Zeke.
“Well, could you guys keep the volume down? I was thinking of turning in early and going to bed. I feel like shit.”
“Yeah, you don’t look so well,” Greg said. “Let me see if you have a fever.”
Greg stood up and walked over to Sam. That’s odd, Sam thought as his housemate approached him, Greg looks taller than usual. Like by a couple inches, at least.
“Dude, did you get taller recently?” Sam asked.
“No, why?”
“No, dude, you were totally not this tall just last week!”
Greg shook his head, confused. Man, Sam must really be ill. What’s with all this jibberish? “Let me feel your forehead,” Greg asked. He raised his arm up, and put the back of his hand against Sam’s head. But Sam couldn’t seem to be still; Greg's hand kept sliding up as Sam’s forehead kept dropping.
“Sam, can you stop bending your knees while I’m trying to feel your forehead?”
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not bending my knees!”
Greg looked down and saw that Sam’s legs were completely straight. But how is that possible?, he wondered. He looked up, and continued to see the top of Sam’s head getting lower and lower.
Sam looked at the stunned expression of Greg's face. “What? What?” he cried out, noticing at the same time that Greg seemed to be getting taller in front of his eyes.
“I can’t believe this, Sam,” Greg said, shaking his head in disbelief. “But somehow, for some reason, you’re shrinking!”
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
