The sound of Jake’s hand rustling through the trail mix sent a jolt of panic through me. He hadn’t noticed me—not the movement, not the noise. Now his massive hand was diving back into the pile, his fingers curling around another handful of food. I froze, my heart racing as his enormous hand came closer. I was surrounded by towering almonds and M&Ms, a minuscule figure lost in the chaos of the mix.
I had no choice. If I stayed where I was, I could end up in his next bite. My tiny body might go completely unnoticed, swallowed along with the nuts and candy. But if I could make a desperate leap onto his hand, maybe—just maybe—he’d feel me, realize something was wrong, and stop eating. It was my only chance.
Jake’s hand hovered above me, his fingers curling around another cluster of almonds and raisins. The faint warmth of his skin radiated through the mix. I crouched low, steadying myself on a flat surface of granola, and timed my jump.
As his fingers closed around a handful, I leapt.
My tiny body collided with the rough surface of his palm, the impact jarring but not painful. His skin was warm, textured with faint ridges and lines that were like massive trenches to me. I clung to the side of his hand, gripping tightly as he lifted it toward his mouth.
My heart pounded as I shouted, “Jake! Stop! Look at your hand!”
Of course, my voice was too small—barely more than a faint squeak at this size. His hand moved steadily upward, the motion disorienting as he tilted it toward his lips. I could see his face now, the faint scruff on his chin and the focused, casual expression as he prepared to toss the trail mix into his mouth.
Desperation fueled me. I scrambled toward the middle of his palm, waving my arms as frantically as I could. If he didn’t see me soon, I was done for.
Jake hesitated. His hand paused midair, his brow furrowing as he looked down. “What the…?” His voice rumbled through the air, a deep, confused sound that made my ears ring.
I waved harder, clinging to his skin as I yelled again. “Jake! Look! It’s me!”
His eyes narrowed, focusing on his hand. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he’d actually seen me or if he was just staring at the trail mix. Then his expression changed. His lips parted slightly, his brows drawing together in shock.
“What the hell…?” His voice was louder this time, and his hand lowered slowly. His massive eyes locked onto me, his pupils dilating as he realized there was something moving on his palm.
“It’s me!” I yelled again, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. I waved my arms frantically, trying to communicate that I wasn’t a bug or a piece of dirt. Jake’s expression was unreadable as he brought his hand closer to his face, inspecting me carefully.
His other hand hovered near me, and for a terrifying moment, I thought he might swat me off like an insect. But instead, his face softened slightly, and he brought his hand even closer to his eyes.
“No way…” he muttered, his voice filled with disbelief. “What… what is this?”
I felt a wave of relief crash over me. He saw me. He noticed me. But I still had no idea if he understood what I was or how I got here. I needed to make him realize who I was—and fast.
---
1. Try to Communicate with Gestures: I could use gestures to point to myself, hoping Jake will recognize me and realize I’ve been shrunk. It’s risky, but it might be the only way to explain my situation.
2. Signal for Help with His Surroundings: I could try pointing to something familiar, like the flashlight in his bag or another object nearby, to help him piece together what happened.
3. Wait for Him to Speak: I could stay still and let Jake process what he’s seeing. Maybe he’ll figure it out on his own—or at least decide not to flick me away.
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