You decide that the patio is the best spot to go to for now. It is a relatively small patch of cement in front of the backdoor that is slightly cluttered with lawn chairs surrounding a glass table, a push lawnmower, a grill with a tank of propane near it, a bicycle, a kiddie pool, and toppled gardening tools. By getting on the patio, you can work your way to the backdoor and get into the house to then get back to the device. At the very least, someone will exit through the backdoor which gives you the opportunity to get their attention. If they can see you.
The grass that once flexed under your weight almost suddenly finds that you are no longer hefty enough to bend it as you have another spurt of shrinking that sees the blade of grass expand in height and width that magnifies your view of its vertical ridges. You don't get much of a chance to explore because now that you so suddenly shrink and your force is no longer holding the grass down, an opposite force from the grass is imposed. In simpler terms, you are whipped through the air and let out a horrified scream as you soar beyond the grass line until you land just below it. Smacking into the tree-sized grass blades slows your fall to where when you finally land into the undergrowth, you only have cuts and bruises as an effect of what should be a gruesome end to someone flying through the air in the same proportion at regular size.
Rising to your feet, you look up a the grass that nearly blocks out the sun. The ground is filled with detritus from years of cut grass and decay. You hear rustling to your left and hide behind a fallen log-like grass stalk as an ant the size of a deer strolls by. You peek your head up to make sure it disappears behind enough grass in the fray before you emerge again. But it is only for a short period of time as a larger beetle the size of a dump truck squeezes through the grass with enough strength to make the tree-like stalks sway. You watch as this bug also walks by, unaware of an easy and soft-flesh potential prey was just nearby. You are basically a bug at this point and if you don't hurry up, you will be a bug to these bugs. You don't even know where you are though but luckily one of the grass stalks is slanted instead of vertically pointed upward after a giant trekked on it especially hard earlier in the day.
You carefully balance up the stalk and get a view just beyond the emergent layer of your ecosystem. From here, you are surprised by just how close you are to the cement patch. The only bit of luck you had today since acquiring the stupid shrinking device is that you were flung by the grass towards the patio. With you being so close, you feel energized and frenetically trek through the organic refuse, occasionally hiding from a passing insect.
Soon you are at the base of the cement patio, a rock wall you have to climb up. As you pull yourself up, you are met with the perspective of feeling absolutely tiny as you strain your neck to view the lawn chairs, table, and rusty grill nearby. In the horizon is the backdoor. That's when you notice the backdoor slide open and out walks a god-like figure. A bald man with a wiry beard wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and worn sneakers with grass stains and dirt coating them. It's John, your friend's father! You watch as the giant seems to walk towards you but stops at the grill as his footsteps make the ground tremble with each powerful collision. You watch as he fires the grill on with the intent to make food for a small get-together of some family friends.
As you cautiously trek towards the giant, you notice legions of ants are strolling along the patio. Particularly in front of the backdoor. You take note that you will need to be careful if you are still going that way. You have a bad feeling that you could become prey or be in danger of John or any other giant walking to and from that backdoor at any moment. You could just chill by the lawn table and chairs, knowing that eventually adults will eat here and help you.
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