You jolt awake to the deafening bangs, your heart racing as the world around you feels impossibly loud and chaotic. Sand grains tower like boulders, and the once-distant crash of a wave now roars like a thunderstorm. Blinking in confusion, you realize something is terribly wrong—you’re only 2 inches tall, a speck on the vast expanse of the nude beach. Panic sets in as you try to piece together how this happened, but there’s no time to think. A colossal shadow looms overhead, blotting out the sun, and you crane your neck to see Thomas—your oblivious friend—in all his towering, naked glory.
He’s squinting down at the beach, scratching his head, clearly wondering where you’ve disappeared to. “Huh, probably went for a swim,” he mutters, his voice booming like a loudspeaker.
You wave your tiny arms and shout, but your voice squeaks against the wind. Thomas shrugs, dismissing your absence with the nonchalance only a beach day can inspire. Then, to your horror, he turns around, his massive form pivoting, and begins to lower himself right toward you.
Time slows as you scramble, your tiny legs kicking up puffs of sand, but there’s no escaping the inevitable. His shadow engulfs you completely, and the air grows warm and heavy as he descends. You brace yourself, expecting the worst, when—by some miracle or cruel twist of fate—you find yourself wedged under his butt cheek. Not crushed, not flattened, but pinned in a bizarre pocket of safety (or misfortune, depending on your perspective).
The weight is immense, yet somehow you’re spared, trapped in the fleshy crease but away from impending doom. Feeling behind you, sand is being compressed into a gritty mattress, and the heat is stifling. Thomas shifts slightly, adjusting his position, and you feel the world tilt as his cheek presses you deeper into the beach. “Man, this sand’s comfy today,” he says to himself, oblivious to the fact that you’re now part of his makeshift cushion. You can hear the muffled thump of his heartbeat, the distant crash of waves, and—oh no—the faint rumble of what might be an incoming beach snack digestion. Your tiny fists pound against his skin, but it’s like punching a warm, immovable mountain. You ask yourself what to do!?!
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
