The television was interrupted. First it was a couple bursts of static, and I thought something was wrong with my TV, but it's not made that way anymore. It's LED, it doesn't do that like my grandma's set did. We used to run around the living room as kids, and I'd stomp just to watch the picture flicker and scroll. It pissed Grandma off, but it made me feel powerful.
So it wasn't my screen that was being jostled. The signal was being interrupted from the station, and I thought I heard thunder over the show. I was all, what the fuck? so I muted the TV and looked out the window. Nothing unusual out there, just a scrim of red sunset on the horizon, past a field of gray and black buildings sparkling with apartment lights and neon accents. But the thunder was getting louder: I looked up and I could see stars, so it wasn't like there was a thunderhead rolling in or anything.
Then everything went black. The stars flicked off as though they were losing power, from left to right. The scintillating corporate lights suddenly shut off in a slow wave across the city, and there was an explosion so loud, it shook my entire building. That was terrifying: feeling the floor go unstable like that. My floor lamp just pitched over and shattered like someone kicked it. I went to check on it in case it was going to start a fire, but I was barefoot and couldn't go near it. Glass gets everywhere, you know. One of my pictures popped off the wall and crashed, and the dishes were going crazy in the cupboard.
"What the fuck?" I screamed it this time.
Outside, the environment was replaced by plaid. Dark plaid, like, dark green and dark blue on black. Enormous plaid, covering the sliding glass doors to the balcony, blocking all the windows, plaid so huge I could see the stitches in it. They looked like shiny plastic ropes, all wound together to make long, twining cables of color. I just stood there and stared at it. Why was everything plaid out there? What had happened to the city?
The plaid went away, and the city flickered back into life. All the buildings lit back up, though almost immediately I realized they'd just been blocked out by the plaid. (The Plaid! That sounds like an awful Stephen King story.) I stepped to the sliding doors and hesitated, then pulled them opened and crept out to the balcony.
I didn't smell any smoke, so I guessed it wasn't missiles or any other kind of military attack. We were safe on that front. The buildings were all there, I couldn't see any damage, but I heard sirens, like, dozens of them going off down at street level. The chipped paint flaking with rust on my handrail bit into my palms as I gripped it hard and dared to look down.
I'm a dozen floors up so I couldn't really see everything, but there were fire trucks and EMTs and cops friggin' everywhere. It totally looked like we'd been attacked by someone, but not missiles. It was just a line of craters, coming from the left as far as I could see. I followed them down to the fire trucks and on through the city, all the way to my right. That's when I saw them and everything in my head shut down. I couldn't hear, I couldn't smell anything, and I forgot to breathe.
There were these two women. They were dressed like kids, you know, in little blue cardigans and plaid skirts, but they were built like women. One was tall and elegant, her dark hair pinned back with a barrette on the back of her head and these sharp bangs, oh, you knew she was trouble with those bangs. The other one was a little shorter, a little rounder, with like this thick, bulky kind of yarn tying back the hair from her face. Orange hair, kinda, brownish orange but also yellow, and really springy, full of life. That was important because so was her expression: bright eyes, wide smile, looking up at her troublemaker friend adoringly. Their legs glowed in the late evening, bare and slender calves catching all the lights of the city buildings and neon signs.
Oh, because they were huge. They were gigantic. They were bigger than the frigging buildings in my goddamned city, is what I'm trying to say. They were barefoot, they were laughing, they were dressed like Catholic schoolgirls, and they were a hundred-goddamned-feet-tall. Maybe more, bigger than that, I don't know. They were just enormous... well, if I live on the 14th floor (technically 13th but no building includes that because it's unlucky), and I'm out there on the balcony and I only come up to their chest, yeah, I guess they're bigger than 100' tall.
I screamed, I just kicked out all the air in my lungs and screamed like a woman in a '50s horror movie. I could hear that, yeah, my high, piercing shriek over the sirens and the crowds yelling on the street and the families getting all riled in the other apartments. Everyone heard me except those two gigantic women, slowly walking through my city, every footstep unleashing a small earthquake, just laughing and chatting with each other like nobody's business. They walked and walked, not noticing anything, whoop-dee-doo, don't mind us, just passing through. Until they were gone.
Fuck it. I'd clean the place up tomorrow. The mess wasn't going anywhere. I grabbed a large plastic bottle of vodka and stepped around the glass shards and collapsed on my bed, and I drank until I passed out, because what the fuck.
Well, it happened again.
The next time it happened was a week later, same night. I was watching TV again, wondering why the hell the news stations didn't cover it at all. How do you not cover two gigantic women dressed like schoolgirls tearing up huge holes in the pavement with their bare feet? That seems newsworthy to me. But they didn't, and life kinda got back to normal, and then the women came back. When I heard the explosions, I grabbed the vodka and ran to the balcony, and I was pretty buzzed before they reached my apartment.
There was the naughty girl, about a head-and-a-half taller than the other one. They weren't in their uniforms this time: the tall brunette with the dangerous bangs was wearing a sparkly red jacket that was cut short around her midriff. She had a black mock turtleneck that also exposed her flat, creamy belly. My God, she looked good, but there was something about that smirk she wore that told me not to attract her attention. I wanted to sneak back into my condo, but then I saw the other one, the one with, like, strawberry-blonde hair.
She was walking up to my place, and this time I could see she had freckles on her cheeks and nose. It was adorably cute, never mind her head was larger than an expensive house by the river. It looked like she was wearing lip gloss, too, shiny pink lips that grinned up at her friend. But I'm guessing if she opened her jaws and tilted her head back, her mouth could hold enough water to turn into a small swimming pool for fou
Why would I think of that? Holy fuck! What a thought! Swimming around in a giant woman's mouth? Where the hell did that come from?
But you know, let's be honest, I didn't run away, either. I stood out there on the balcony and watched them come up. The tall dark girl just looked out over the city with this supremely cool expression, like there was something much more interesting happening over the horizon and she was patiently waiting to get there. The shorter woman (Ha! "Shorter!" Like she's only 150' tall!) was talking about something, random crap, just babbling because she was happy to be out and happy to be with her friend, you know. You just make noise because you’re happy. Birds do it, cats do it, everyone does it.
I stared at her, though. She was cuter, maybe a little dowdy, but I liked it on her. I liked how her eyes glowed as she babbled away. I liked her embarrassed little giggle when she started on a long sentence and got lost midway through. What was really attractive was how happy she was to be here. I stared at her happy face until she walked up to my place, and then I stared up at her jaw and long, graceful neck, and... all right, this is embarrassing, but this is how I knew she was a woman and not a girl. She had huge boobs.
Yes, I know she's over 150' tall, but that's not what I mean. I mean if she was normal-sized, they'd still be large boobs. They bounced, they heaved, they were also happy to be out and about in the city. They looked joyful! Seriously. And they bounced right by my apartment. I told you I was about chest-level to them, and they bounced up to me. And stopped.
"This is the place?" said the tall woman, frowning slightly.
Her friend said, "Uh-huh!" and she stopped and turned and faced my building. I looked up at her, and then she looked down at me. My heart just about stopped. "Hi," she said, looking dead frigging at me.
"Hi," I said back. I waved the bottle at her.
She paused a minute and said, "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm great." I waggled the bottle and we laughed. We both laughed, she and me. Her friend snorted, wished her well, and strode on out of the city to whatever else she thought was going on.
I shifted on my feet. "So, uh, you come here much?" It was weird to talk to her, because I could only see her nose and eyes and hair above her massive frigging boobs. It's like I was talking to her enormous breasts. Which, you know, isn't terrible.
"I just moved into the area. I'm not from around here, I guess." Her voice was soft but full of energy, like there was something else she wanted to say but wasn't getting to.
"Yeah, I, uh, never saw you around here before. Until last week."
She giggled and blushed. I could see her cheekbones turn rosy, in the light from my apartment building. "Oh, you noticed me?"
I stared at her. The bottle slipped from my fingers and bounced against the floor. I didn't even bother to pick it up as it glugged into my carpet. She stared back at me with her huge eyes. And then I started laughing, and then she started laughing, which set her enormous boobs jumping and bouncing over me, and then I don't know what happened. We just paused in laughing for a minute, and we stared at each other, and she raised her hand to my balcony and held it there.
I looked up at her. Her expression was... she looked like she was going to cry, like she wanted something really badly, and it was going to crush her world if she didn't get it. I looked at her open palm, gentle hills of soft skin hovering right next to my balcony, and that was it. I didn't look back at my apartment or anything prosaic like that, I just climbed over that decrepit-ass handrail and grabbed her pinky finger, and I climbed into her soft, warm hand, and her fingers wrapped gently around my entire body, and then her lips covered me and I started crying, and now I'm hers.
I belong to her. I just do. She picked me out of everyone else in the city, and now she is my entire world. I don't know what to tell you.