Dropped Call (2024)

Warren had no idea what had happened. One moment, he was standing by his dresser, pulling on a fresh t-shirt, and the next, the entire world had exploded in size. His room, once familiar and safe, now loomed around him like a cityscape built for titans. The carpet fibres rose like thick, synthetic stalks, making even the simple act of moving feel like trudging through a dense jungle.

And then he felt tremors.

His roommate entered the room with the casual, heavy-footed presence Warren had never thought twice about before. But now, each footfall was a landslide, a booming impact that sent tremors through the floor and made Warren’s already minuscule body tremble. He tried screaming. He tried waving. But Walden, focused on his phone and walking without a care, was oblivious to the microscopic man below him.

Walden had come in looking for his charger, grumbling about how Warren always seemed to leave things lying around. He barely glanced around the room as he stepped inside, his attention locked on his phone’s screen.

“Hey, Warren, do you have -oh?” He said, cutting himself as he realized the room was empty. Seeing the charger on the bed, he took one step forward to grab it.

Warren didn’t even have time to dodge.

The shadow of Walden’s bare foot engulfed him, and then—

A crushing, suffocating force pressed him deep into the warmth of flesh. The impact was instant, flattening him like a speck of dust against the soft yet unforgiving expanse of Walden’s sole. He didn’t die—somehow, impossibly, his tiny frame withstood the weight. He was held there, stuck to the slightly sweaty underside of his unaware roommate’s foot, every twitch and shift of muscle smothering him in a living prison.

Then, Walden moved again.

He sighed, successfully having got a charger, but wondering where his roommate could’ve ran off to, he walked through the house toward the living room. Each step was a fresh wave of crushing pressure for Warren, his tiny body enduring every casual shift of Walden’s foot as he crossed the hardwood floor, then the rug, before finally reaching the couch.

Unaware of the microscopic man stuck to his sole, Walden plopped onto the couch, exhaling as he propped his left foot onto his right knee. The shift sent Warren tumbling sideways, leaving him awkwardly suspended against the sole. The humid skin of Walden’s foot gripped him like glue, trapping him in an awkward, off-kilter position.

Panic surged through Warren. His phone! By some miracle, it had remained in his grasp, though his fingers ached from the strain of holding onto it. His screen was cracked, but it still worked. With whatever strength he had left, Warren tapped and swiped frantically until he managed to call Walden.

Above, Walden paused, his phone buzzing in his hand.

“HELLO?” Walden’s voice boomed from above, shaking Warren to his core. The sheer volume made his tiny body tremble, a stark reminder of just how small he had become. But before Warren could utter a single word, Walden absently gave his foot a shake, an idle motion to ease the minor irritation he felt against his skin. Warren barely had time to react before the sudden movement dislodged his grip.

His tiny fingers lost their hold, and his lifeline—his phone—slipped free. He watched in horror as it fell, plummeting through the air. He reached, uselessly stretching toward it, but there was nothing he could do. The device crashed onto the floor far below, shattering upon impact. His only chance to communicate, gone.



“HELLOOOOO? ANYONE THERE…?” Warren heard the giant above playfully say into the phone, none the wiser to his roommate’s suffering.

Above, Walden frowned at his phone.

“Huh. Must’ve dropped the call.” He shrugged, hung up and continued scrolling, still oblivious to the tiny, desperate speck of his roommate, trapped beneath his foot and enduring every idle movement.