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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/2222158-Low-Prospects-for-Littles/cid/3219082-Pocket-Like-Its-Hot
by Ty975
Rated: GC · Interactive · Adult · #2222158
Today, the criminal, poor, and unlucky are condemned to be shrunk. Where do you fit in?
This choice: Brought to class with Marie.  •  Go Back...
Chapter #4

Pocket Like It's Hot

    by: TheNumber1
The drive to school was at most fifteen minutes but as always it felt longer. Samara would’ve given anything for Marie to turn on the air-conditioning. It was a humid morning and the sticky atmosphere was only worsened by her environment. She'd been stowed in the giant student’s shirt pocket. Samara dragged her forearm across her brow with a labored sigh. She swayed with Marie’s torso as she rocked to the beat of some pop song blaring from the radio. She sang along, her voice rumbling through her chest with the power of a foghorn. It was impossible to ignore the fact that she could actually sing pretty well. Not that Samara would ever tell her that.

That song came to an abrupt end when Marie cut the car off. They'd arrived.

Samara braced herself, only to be thrown face-first into a pile of lint as Marie stood out of her red coupe. To the rest of the world the pocket would seem small. A space on her uniform blouse barely large enough to contain a cell phone. For Samara however, it was a cottony prison. The white fabric stretched so high she'd have to climb to reach the opening. It was simultaneously roomy enough for her to be bounced around when Marie walked and tight enough to be claustrophobic whenever she inhaled too deeply.

"First-class seats." Samara said flatly, dusting herself off. She tried to make out what was happening on the outside but all she could see was the blur of light and shadow that penetrated the wall of fabric to her front. It wasn't until she heard the deafening cacophony of voices that she got a better idea of where they were.

It wasn't breaking news to say high school students were loud. From Samara's perspective though, they were absolutely unbearable. Countless gigantic teenagers yelling and laughing and gossiping for miles around. It was enough to make her miss Marie's singing. To make matters worse, they were reckless, clumsy, and always in a rush. Samara could count on getting squashed at least once whenever she rode in the pocket.

Right on cue, some humongous doofus walked right into Marie. "My bad!" Was all Samara heard before she was crushed into the solid wall of bra at her back. Marie's chest didn't relent, piling on tons of soft weight. The teens exchanged apologies and went their separate ways, while the dazed Tiny was left wheezing. They were able to brush off such a calamitous collision like it was nothing. Moments like that made Samara feel very small.

She gave up trying to stay upright and just let her body bounce with Marie's footsteps as she walked briskly to class.



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