Nov. 7, 2024: "So, what if, instead of writing the ‘great myth’ tonight, you just wrote a conversation between a tiny man and a Giantess? Or an unexpected meeting in the forest. Something you might write just for me. Could you do that?"
Gertie stepped through the woods carefully, trying not to knock over any more trees that weren’t ready for it. It had been a rainy season lately, and some of the larger trees didn’t have enough soil to keep their roots grounded—she felt like she knew the feeling. That’s why the retreat into the woods, to get acquainted with the elements again, take a breath, clear her head.
She was moving pretty quickly through a grove of pine, so easily that she almost didn’t hear the warning chirp. She froze in place; around her neck some little brown birds swarmed, not pecking her but fluttering madly and complaining to let her know they were there. She took a half-step back, acknowledging their concern, and they backed off. This wasn’t a great area for their nesting, so something else must have attracted their ire.
She knelt, bringing her massive body somewhere below the canopy of the trees. Checking the ground under her butt, she found a clearing that would accommodate her hips and rested, then cupped her palms on her knees. She drew another breath, watching the pine boughs swing slightly toward her flaring nostrils, and slowly exhaled to ground herself in her immediate environment. Something set those birds off, but it wasn’t anything she was doing … to them.
A few yards away from the toes on her left foot, she saw the tiny shelter, in a valley formed by the large roots of a very old tree. It wasn’t meant to be permanent, obviously, just walls formed by mounting twigs and a double-layer of bark, stripped and intact, to ward off falling nuts and mostly keep out the rain. “Okay, I see you now,” she said, keeping her voice low.
The door to the shelter, a flap made of a leaf not from the area, lifted and a tiny man stepped out. “Thanks for the courtesy, but you still scared the crap out of me,” he said. He strained to raise his head sufficiently to meet her gaze.
She pursed her lips. “Sorry, sorry. I was just out for a stroll and finally getting some momentum going. Guess I should know I can never entirely relax out here.”
The man snorted. “Pardon me if I don’t feel terribly sorry for you. Your momentum means the destruction of a lot more than my little hovel. And it’s not much, but I’m attached to it.”
The lip on this little man stoked some ire in her. With a consummately casual gesture she brought her hand over and dramatically unfurled her index finger, bringing it down just above his roof. “You wouldn’t dare,” he murmured, staring at the blithe destruction of his shelter.
“I wouldn’t,” she said gravelly, “but watch your mouth. You can’t always rely on the mercy and grace of gigantic people, especially when you’re smarting off to them.”
He rolled his eyes but nodded and bowed. “I’ll watch my tone. Please don’t destroy my life’s work.” She withdrew her hand and rested it on her knee. “I’d invite you inside for some tea, but ...”
She shrugged. “I’m Gertie. Gertie the giant. I don’t like it either, it’s stupid and childish, but I haven’t heard anything better. And now it’s just a bad habit that I probably won’t be able to give up, so.”
He repeated her name a few times. “I mean, it’s not the worst. I’m Frank, been living here all my life.”
“So, three years?”
“Good eyes. Yeah, three of the normies’ years. That would make you, what, 400?”
She laughed, canting her head back and letting her mouth open up. Any chance she got to stretch and flex felt good. “Not really, but that’s all I’ll say, except much longer than three. Not that I’m territorial. Hell, you could probably build a nest in my hair and I wouldn’t notice, or care if I did.” She studied him and tried to picture him nestled down in her long waves of hair. This made her realize she hadn’t washed in a long time, it was probably greasy and nappy, and she braced herself for his commentary.
“That would be a really exciting idea,” he admitted. “I’ve never fantasized about a giantess before. Women, yeah, the normies that come out here for camping and hiking. It’s easy to dream about them, with their long, bare legs, camping out in twos and threes for safety, relaxing when they think they’re alone.”
“You spy on them?”
“Sure I do. From a distance, not up close. I just like to see them, like I like to see a deer or a bloom of flowers.”
“Guessing you don’t plan on fucking that deer, though. That’s what makes it different.”
He shook his head in irritation. “Yeah, I know, it’s wrong. But they could easily squash me under their hiking boot or flip me into their fire if they wanted.”
“That doesn’t excuse your behavior.”
“I’m not trying to be creepy! I just get intensely lonely out here. It’s nice to see someone else, at a great distance, and it’s even better to see beautiful young women, even if they’re gigantic.”
She sniffed. “Relatively speaking. I have to avoid the entire area when they’re camping. I don’t know who gives them permission, or why they think it’s a good idea to go off the trail and into the real wilderness, you know, not governed by rangers.”
“I guess they haven’t experienced enough danger lately to feel like they should be careful.” Frank edged away from his house and began approaching her foot.
“You getting funny ideas, there, Frank?”
“Maybe funny to someone. I’ve never … wow, I’ve never seen someone as huge as you. I’m glad my bird-trap warned you.”
“You trained them? That’s very clever. A better idea than brightly colored flags, that’s for sure.”
He edged closer. In total, he wasn’t even as high as her pinky toe, resting on the forest floor. “I’m sorry, do you mind if I examine you? This is just insane, I’ve never seen anyone like you.”
Gertie eyed him for a moment. Even if he was a perv, he wouldn’t get anywhere important on her body very quickly. If he just wanted to taste her toes … “Go ahead, I’ll hold still. What are you looking for, anyway?”
“I just want to check you out, that’s all.” He walked up to her toes, piled high above him. She watched him place his tiny hands upon her pinky toe but couldn’t feel a thing. He ran his palms over her calluses, then around the torn skin around her nail. It looked like he reached under the nail and pulled out a twig. “Stuff really builds up in here, that’s incredible.”
“It could easily be you, you know.” That came out gruffer than she’d intended.
“It could easily, yeah,” he agreed, with something like envy.