1 John Gorton lived in a house within a house--as in, a dollhouse. He used to be 5 foot 10 and almost 190 pounds, but began to shrink and wound up six inches tall, weighing just a few ounces. It was considered shocking--the idea of shrinking like that. Something which happened in an old book and film but it could never happen in real life, could it? Well, illness or whatever it was, it did happen. The dollhouse was built by students at his son's school. His shrinking had stopped at that point and he hoped it wouldn't start again...and of course he hoped to grow back to "normal" someday. The left side of the dollhouse's main floor (it was placed up against a wall) was a living room and den; the right side, a dining room up front and a kitchen in the back. Miniature furniture was placed in each room, looking fairly accurate. Going up the stairs, which were designed for John's slightly less than one-inch-long feet, one could go left into a master bedroom and smaller bedroom, or right to a bathroom and a storage room. The bathroom had a working tub; the storage room had a water heater connected to the tub (it held about 7 ounces of water that John's wife or son could fill) and he could fill the tub with a few inches of water, then maybe relax in it, his tiny feet and small legs up on the divider where the faucets were. A shower curtain and a small blind gave him privacy. For entertainment there was a smart phone on the main floor, and he could get TV or radio stations on that. John recalled the time when he wound up the same size as his 11 year old son Brad. Both were about 4 foot 8; John was 96 pounds and Brad was about 85. Side by side, one would notice the father's head was a bit smaller than his son's, and the boy's feet and hands were slightly bigger than his dad's. John had a bit of a paunch-y belly which accounted for the slight weight advantage. In terms of clothes, John found his son's shirts, underwear, and pants fit him fine. But the boy's sneakers were slightly large on him. Each of his feet had been about 7 and three-quarter inches long while Brad's were close to 9 inches long. It felt odd at that time being the same height as an eleven year old boy--being slightly taller than 8, 9, or 10 year olds, but shorter than teens or adults. The world seemed slightly bigger to him but of course it would become even more greatly magnified later. Anyone looking at the slightly shrunken John could tell he was an adult not a boy, but his voice already had start to get higher and John found that if he didn't shave, his beard grew--but slowly. He wasn't de-aging but being shorter made him feel like he was becoming a boy again. 14 and 15 year olds towered over him; their voices were still kind of high, but John's was higher still. When they were together and talking, if someone turned their head and couldn't see who had spoken, it was tough to figure out if John had said something or if it was Brad. John's wife Eileen tried to take it in stride as her husband dwindled down to the size of a toddler or a baby and then to half a foot tall. The dollhouse seemed to be a bit of an embarrassment to him, but how best to make him comfortable? Having a huge wife and son made him feel like a small animal, a pet--and his role as a father was pretty much gone now. Brad liked to play around with his tiny father...and sometimes it got rough. John was usually pretty calm and only yelled when it was necessary, but a six inch tall man isn't quite threatening to a 56 (now 58, actually) inch tall boy, whose father had a high pitched voice much like a cartoon character. Dress John in blue and he could be a Smurf. He could fit into one of his son's sneakers with a lot of room to spare. That was what he was dealing with. As a husband? No longer did he have to go to work (Eileen did, though) and now he was living in a dollhouse--imagine. He tried to be intimate with her but it failed...at his size, what could he do? (And the media interfered with their privacy but eventually Eileen began to steer the media into occasional features about him, well controlled ones.) They turned down the offer of a reality series on The Learning Channel, but John got to star in some TV commercials. The money helped. She could tenderly curl a hand around him and give him affection and he could return it as best he could. She could bring him up for a kiss--with 2 foot wide lips, as air came out of her 2 foot long nose. She had to speak softly to him--everyone did, really, as their voices could overpower him. But yes there came a time when he had to depart sleeping with her and find another place...like a dollhouse. But when it came to Brad, almost ten times as tall as his dad, he could now get away with murder one might say. So much for controlling him. It was a bit of a relief when the shrinking stopped but he still was stuck in, well, a lowly position now. It was a Monday night and Eileen had to attend a meeting. She left Brad some money for a large pizza (and a tip for the delivery guy) and said he could have his friend Ryle over. There would be a hockey playoff game at 7 and the two could enjoy pizza and soda (for the former, sausage, bacon, and pepperoni). Brad was told to take small specks of a slice and give it to his father. Late afternoon. Brad and Ryle had been playing outside and they both entered the house and Brad started going over to the dollhouse. Ryle had known about John Gorton and his strange condition but hadn't met him yet. John lay on the sofa of his dollhouse and heard a loud noise--the door of the main house opening and closing. Brad had a key, of course. He sat up and looked out the window of his dollhouse; John saw two sets of sneaker clad feet heading his way.He wearily got up and prepared to open the dollhouse door but heard a loud noise--Brad was tapping at the door with his index finger and the force of it opened the door. John walked out and looked up at the two eleven-year-olds. They seemed close to 60 feet tall to him. Gargantuan sneakers and white socks, massive pants and T-shirts, and immense faces. Brad knealt down and upturned his right hand; John got on and quickly was raised up. http://shrinking.freehostia.com/Pic/ssnap1.png http://shrinking.freehostia.com/Pic/ssnap1.png With a loud thud, both boys had settled down on the sofa and Brad raised his hand up toward Ryle's face. He got a good look at the tiny man. "Can I hold him?" "Yeah be careful." With that Ryle's hand reached around John's body, and the man could feel immense fingers curled around him. He was being held in the giant hand which extended from his shoulders down to his hips. John couldn't move his arms or legs...and it was getting tight. "Awesome!," said Ryle, seeing John's inch-long head. With his other hand, he started to place his index finger and thumb around it--mussing up John's hair. John could see the immense hair, eyes, nose, and mouth of the fifth-grader. "Please let me go--or just ease up a bit..." He felt smothered--and was having a bit of trouble breathing. "I'm not hurtin' ya..." That being said, he did ease up a little. John couldn't escape, though. The doorbell rang and Brad got up, his immense form heading over to the front door where the pizza delivery man had shown up. He gave the man money and grabbed the pizza, carrying it into the living room and placing it on a coffee table. Next he ran into the kitchen and fetched some soda and glasses. The game was starting soon and the boys eagerly ate immense slices of pizza, and drank huge amounts of soda. Brad did give his father some of the food and soda (the latter in a very small juice glass). "Only could finish three slices," said Ryle. "Me too. We'll have the other two later." -------------------------- John usually wore a specially made shirt and sweat pants; sometimes tiny socks, but sometimes he was barefoot. It wasn't easy for someone to make the clothes his size..and admittedly sometimes he wore dolls' clothes. Brad and his friend Ryle were dressed as boys their age often were, T shirts (short or long sleeved) and maybe a sweat shirt on top; jeans or sweat pants, or maybe short pants. Sometimes they wore socks, sometimes they went barefoot and they had gargantuan sneakers. At one point Ryle decided to take off with tiny John held in his hands. Brad pursued him. "Give him back now, he's MY dad!" They hopped on and off sectional pieces with their sock feet, jumped over them, and at one point Ryle decided to place John on top of the refrigerator. He jumped up slightly and placed John there, next to some cereal boxes. (Yes, giants they seemed to John, but they were still a bit short and Ryle did have to jump slightly.) Then the boys decided to have a little more fun. They each got on the couch and tossed John at each other. He was held in one hand, or two cupped ones, and tossed toward the other boy. At one time, Ryle wasn't ready to catch John. The tiny man wound up colliding with the boy's T-shirt clad chest, and he slid down to his lap and then the sofa itself. John sounded like a cartoon character with his "new" size. Now he felt like one--Wile E. Coyote, who had just tried to launch himself at the Road Runner only to collide with a rock face, and slide down slowly. Next the boys decided, during the game's intermission, to play a little hockey in the kitchen. They had mini hockey sticks and a tennis ball and shot it around a bit, doing their best not to break anything. Brad had an idea--he grabbed his father and put him down on the floor, and the boys resumed their game. John found a large ball heading toward him, and he ducked. Then he saw sock-clad feet, each half again as long as he was tall, heading toward him as well. He started to scramble away only to find one of the boys' feet (he didn't know which one) colliding with him and he was sent sprawling. "Don't injure him!" "OK but then why are we playing with him like this?" His son's left hand curled around his body and picked him up. He found himself placed on the counter near the sink and he started to yell at the giant boys. They laughed--it was tough to hear the little man. His voice was like an old 33.3 RPM record sped up to 78. What could he do? They far outranked him in size, even if he the father of one of them. He just felt he was damn lucky that the boy who'd unintentionally kicked him hadn't purely stepped on him. It could have been the end for him...in fact, given the size of their huge feet it's amazing it wasn't. It was a brief moment of contact, not the full force of a boy's weight on him. At his small size and puny weight, John found he could quickly dart out of the way but he still worried. The boys settled down to watch the third period of the game.John had enough. He had been sitting on Brad's lap, and got up and ran down the leg (which was propped up on the coffee table). He slid down Brad's right stocking-clad ankle onto the coffee table and made his way to a special ladder down to the floor. "Goin' home, little guy?," smirked Brad. Yes he was, back to the dollhouse. He slammed the tiny door behind him and ran up the stairs, then turned left into the master bedroom. Bed, bureau, an mp3 player for entertainment. Before going to bed, he went over to the window and looked out where he could get a view of the two giant boys on the sectional-sofa. They were both laughing. "Um, he's still your dad even though he's so small," said Ryle, "but we can have fun with him." "Poor guy. Poor LITTLE guy," said Brad. He held up his cupped right hand and pretended to be holding John in it. "Off to bed, little man," he said, pretending to poke his father with his index finger. "No, wait..." With that, Brad grabbed the invisible shrunken father, looked up and pretended to drop him in his open mouth. That made them laugh even harder. "He's looking at us," said Ryle, spotting John in the window of the dollhouse. They both had stopped laughing. Brad got up and went over to the dollhouse. He sat down cross legged and looked over at his six inch dad, then cupped his right hand slightly and brought it over to the window. "Have a good night Dad..." "You two are monsters! You could have killed me!," he told his son in a flea-sized voice. Brad barely understood what he said. It was true, John thought, but oh yes they were 'just boys', just boys acting as kids would. But what father was in a position like he was? "Sorry Dad...got carried away." John nodded and extended his right arm out the window, touching the end of one of Brad's gargantuan fingers. His hand was impossibly small. Yeah Brad was still his son, and he did love him, but the difference in size made things very bleak. They said good night to each other and later Eileen came home and saw the two boys on the sectional, getting sleepy, and she didn't see John and figured he'd be in his dollhouse. He was actually so small he could rest in his son's shirt pocket if he wanted to. It would be a little tight though. http://shrinking.freehostia.com/Pic/scottdhouse.jpg