“Hey there,” she calls over to you, as she walks over and cusps you with her hand. She places you onto the table next to her plate. “Here, do you want some food?”
On her plate is a breakfast croissant, a few pieces of fruit, and some yogurt. She rips a piece of croissant for you, and you accept gladly.
“My name is Fatimah. What’s yours?”
“Michael.”
“How did you get so small?”
“She just shrunk me out of the blue; I didn’t do anything. Please you got to help me get help and get home.”
“Where are you from?”
“The United States.”
“I see.”
“Please take me to the police or the embassy. They can get me back to my family.”
“I can’t do that. That would get my friend in trouble. She was only trying to help me.”
“Please.”
“No,” she retorted firmly. “But I do need to figure out what to do with you. She’s right that you could keep me company, and you seem like low maintenance for a pet, definitely easier than say a puppy. Plus, I don’t really want to kill an innocent life and getting rid of you otherwise would be a hassle.”
You try to protest, but she simply walks to the other room. She comes back with a second cup of coffee.
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