The Smallest Argument (2024)

Chris shut the door behind him and tossed his keys into the bowl on the entryway table. The sound was familiar, comforting, and signalled the end of another long day at work. Finally home. The television was already on, the low hum of voices drifting through the living room, but the space was empty.

“Em?” he called, his voice carrying down the hallway.

“Just a minute!” came the reply from the bathroom. At least someone was home.

He popped the tab on a cold beer and settled into the couch, happy to claim the television for himself. He was removing his socks, when the bathroom door clicked open, and he heard footsteps coming closer. His sister Emily appeared in the doorway, hurrying as she clipped on her last earring, hair still slightly damp.

“Oh, it’s just you,” she muttered, catching her reflection in the mirror that hung on the living room wall.

Chris leaned his head back and turned just enough to look at her, raising one eyebrow. “Thanks, I guess.”

Emily let out a quick huff and drew in a calming breath before turning toward him. She dug into her purse, the sound of keys clinking against metal and loose objects rattling around filling the room.

“Sorry. It’s just…Aaron was supposed to be here. We’re going out, and I thought he was already inside. You didn’t see him when you came in, did you?”

Chris shook his head, eyes already back on the glowing TV screen. “Uh, no. Place was empty when I got here.”

“Are you sure, Chris?” Her voice carried that familiar edge of impatience, the one that told him she thought he was deliberately playing dumb. She turned back toward the mirror, uncapping a tube of lip gloss and leaning in close. “You better not be messing with me.” The words came half-muffled as she carefully traced colour across her mouth.

Chris sighed and glanced her way. “Em, I’m telling you. The place is empty. Your little boy toy isn’t here.”

“Chris, stop!” Emily snapped, her voice rising with a sharp edge of panic. “Do you know where he went? He was in the apartment, I know it.”

Chris scoffed at her, as if the accusation itself was ridiculous. The familiar rhythm of a sibling argument slid into place instantly. “Bro, what are you even asking me? I just got inside! The place was empty. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Emily threw up her hands in exasperation, the fight draining out of her all at once. “Okay, okay, sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just go see if his car’s out front...”

She rolled her eyes at the men in her life, snatched up her bag, and stormed out of the apartment they shared. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Chris alone with the glow of the television.

He let out a huff, muttering under his breath about her attitude, and sank deeper into the couch. That was when something small caught his eye, a flicker of movement, a shifting shadow on the cushion beside him. Antennae twitched.

Disgust rippled across his face. Without a second thought, he shoved his bare foot forward and scraped the tiny shape across the fabric, flicking it out of the way.

What Chris didn’t know, and what neither of them could possibly know, was that Aaron was there, trapped in their home at a scale that reduced him to nothing more than a crawling speck. His desperate attempts to shout, to wave, to throw himself into their line of sight had gone unnoticed.

He had nearly been flattened already when Chris had first dropped heavily onto the couch, the weight shaking the world beneath Aaron’s tiny body as his massive feet loomed dangerously close.

He had clung to hope when Emily’s voice filled the room, certain she would see him, hear him, rescue him. But she had turned her back, lips glossed, distracted by the argument. Her departure sealed him in with Chris, the one person too distracted and too dismissive to notice him.

Still, Aaron tried again. He ran across the cushion, heart hammering as he waved frantically, and for one impossible moment he thought he had done it. Chris’s eyes narrowed, his attention settling on him. Relief surged.

Then the giant scoffed. The look on his face wasn’t recognition. It was annoyance.

A vast shadow fell over him, blocking the light. Chris’s bare foot loomed above, the sole descending with casual cruelty. Aaron screamed, unheard, and tried to back away just as the fleshy wall slammed into him, pressing him down into the couch. His body was pinned and scraped along the rough fabric, dragged mercilessly as Chris shoved what he thought was nothing more than a bug away.

Aaron tumbled over the edge, his world spinning as he fell, landing with a sharp crack against the hardwood floor below. Darkness swallowed him.

Above, Chris adjusted himself on the couch, already forgetting about the nuisance he had brushed aside. Aaron lay broken, unconscious, lost forever and tiny in the home of his girlfriend and her brother.