Janine also wondered why there weren't more Tiny women out in public. When she asked Shaun about this, however, he became upset and withdrawn.
She held him in front of one of the event posters. There was a costume contest, the prize for which was the winner's choice of $25 or covering the bar tab.
I explained what the last several weeks looked like, fighting, scavenging, my victories and defeats: an endless workout, each day ending curled up on hard soil.
Normal society tends to frown on Tinies taking action against little girls, even in self-defense. They don't think much of us, and they rarely take our side in any dispute.
Some workers were like this, Shaun knew. Maybe they got a thrill from the momentary captive audience, either sating their curiosity about Tinies or enjoying their small portion of power and dominance.
The pert young lab tech looked at the little old man cradled against Joya's cleavage. "How did you get him to live so long?"
But he looked good, he hoped. Right before some of the skyscrapers shattered and crumpled, he glimpsed his own reflection.
The last thing I needed was to trip and land on my ass, helpless before the approaching spider. These bastards find my little hidey-hole and think they'll just move in.
Her entire world was hazy and wrapped in cotton, all except for this little circle of focus that contained a tiny, handsome man.
I wanted to touch that shoe, to climb over her foot and scramble inside that jeans leg. I wanted to hug her ankle and kiss her skin, I wanted this so badly. So why was I fleeing?