I thought the news about the shrinking virus was just a hoax, but walking into the club tonight changed my mind. I’m the only one left normal size amidst a sea of 1cm tall party-goers. At first, I try to be the sweet, caring immune citizen, crouching down and apologizing profusely—though my heels seem to have a mind of their own. But as the night goes on, playing nice gets boring, and the power trip sets in. Watch as my attitude shifts from shock to cruel amusement, teasing the tiny specs with flashes of what they can't have, and realizing that since I'm a goddess and they're just bugs, I might as well start stomping.
