by Tim Lacey

Strange dreams. Very strange dreams indeed. Dreams that had haunted my sleep. With this strange and distrubing sleep came feelings of pain. My cuts felt as if someone had taken a cork-screw, shoved it into my stomach and started turning, turning and turning.

The smell of plastic and old paper hit my senses. I say 'hit' for the odor was overwhelming. For a brief moment as I tried to escape the odor, I though I had gone blind. Everything about me was dark. I fumbled with increasing anxiety through the darkness. I stretched out my arms hoping to find something to bring back to what I could recognize.

After a few minutes of groping my fingers found what appeared to be a zipper. Fingers hurting and bleeding---I could feel the warm wettness of blood running down my hand. I broke through.

Light flooded in on me. I could hear the sound of voices. I assumed they were voices. While greatly distored, I could make out words or at least the sounds of letters.

Pushing myself through the small opening I fell several feet onto a hard cool surface.

Where the BLANK am I?

Infront of me was a silver pole. Or maybe a streetlight. No--- it couldn't be a street light, I was inside. I studied the pole. It went up at least a hundred feet till it ended at a brownish wooden surface.

I started to look around. Their were more of these silver poles. I looked at the surface I stood on. It was a greenish square. Yet, next to it was a tan colored square. I stept back thinking or trying to think about where I am and how I came to be here.


Turning around, I stood face to face with a large black object that I judged to be as big as a car garage. At least like the one at my parents home. It was oddly shaped. It rose to make a shallow oval. I saw an opening, the one I suppose I must have fallen through.

I was right. It was a zipper. Just like I had thought in the darkness. This zipper, was the biggest I have ever seen. Hanging off to the side of the zipper was a gray rounded object. Another object caught my attention. Twenty feet or so above it was a sign. It read: "Wal-Mart Book Bags." Book bag?

I felt a strange coolness run through me, culnimating in a hot dizziness in my head. I found I was in a great giant room. Slowly walking along the vast floor I knew now what those silver poles were. The legs to desks. School desks! I was in a giant school room. Brought to it in a giant book bag.

I didn't have time to consider or freak in this situation. All at once the sound of a thousand earthquakes commenced. I didn't need long to wonder what it was. It was the students returning to class.

I ran back over to the bookbag and stood in its shadow. I put my hands to my ears as a herd of different colored shoes and sneakers came crashing and thundering by.

I was afraid my body was going to come apart by the sound of the massive chairs as they slid back and forth under the weight of the gargantuan students.

Next to me a pair of black and blue sneakers came to rest. I leaned up tightly against the book bag. The SUV size sneakers that I was near had to belong to the person who owned the book bag. And a link in this nightmare. If I wanted to to see who it belonged to, it meant venturing out into the open. And risk being seen. I did think, I had no reason to fear. Why should I? I did nothing wrong to anyone. But---still the way others and I act when we see something small like a bug crawl by, gave me cause to be cautious.


I took a deep, nervous breath. I walked up to the sneaker nearest me. Rising out of the giant sneaker was the coarse material of a white sock. This disappeared into the dark opening to a pair of denims. The California Redwood width leg rose up in an angle under the top of the desk where the rest of my vision was blocked. I couldn't see past the ceiling above me created by the bottom of the giant desk top.

Crap-- what should I do? I thought about waiting till class ended. Another thought struck me and it frightened me. Was it wise to let the person who had brought me here to know I was no longer in their bookbag. It was clear, to me, I must be a prisoner.

If I knew the I class was in I would know the students. I then could run to a friend for help.

But, as stupid; as this might seem, I wondered who did this to me. Or knew what this was all about. I thought about climbing up their leg.

A sudden shift of the sneakers quickly squashed that idea. I ran back to the relative safety of the book bag. This was not enough. A huge hand came swinging down from many stories. I tried to duck. I was too slow. The impact of the wall size hand against me dazed me.


I felt the feeling of motion. For a quick moment, a flash, I focused on a pair of very clear, very green and very big eyes. Next I was pushed into another dark void. I felt this material around me. This time I felt warm.

The air was stale. And mixed with the warmth I faded in and out of sleep. For a time this material chamber or prison rocked back and forth.

My heart started to beat faster when out of the darkness came light. And in this light slid silently, mightly, several gigantic fingers.


"Richard!? I exclaimed in a question. The giant face that gazed down upon me as I sat in the giant hand was my friend Richard. "Richard!" I shouted. There was no response from the giant face. Just a smirk on those stationwagon sized lips.

Thundering over next to Richard was another giant. The face sort of looked familar, though hard to tell since I was looking upwards at the features. I could make out his blond hair that was combed straight up creating sort of a fortress on top of his head.

This other teen reached down and picked me up. Giggling, he placed me on the side of his head. I hung on tight to the short crop of hair. The hair was too thin. I could feel myself losing my grip. Looking down, I saw the top of the teen's ear. I tried to brace my foot on top. I wasn't close enough. I started yelling for help. Two strong fingers plucked me off from the side of the teen's head. He then deposited me onto the top of his hair. Standing up among the stiff strands of hair I started to make my way through. I soon came to a clearing. It was to my horror, not a clearing but the end! I was at the point the scalp ends and forehead begins. I found myself falling. I past the skin of the forehead that was marked with pink pimples the size of beach balls. I next fell onto the bridge of the nose moist with skin secretions. Sailing off the nose, I resumed to my falling doom.

A wall of flesh came and surrounded me. For a moment I couldn't breathe from the tight grasp of the fingers. Release came---and breath back to the lungs. "Tom, you have to be more careful," said Richard.

"Yeah, dude. We can look out for you. But you have to take in our size as well. Like the other day you almost got squished," said the other teen.

"Oh, yeah," I remembered.