The Televerses

There was a moth on the screen. Sylvia put up with it for a while,

simply because she was too tired to get up. Only when it got to the

stage that she was no longer watching the picture, but looking at the

moth instead, did she rise in frustration to swat it. She picked up a

magazine and hit the screen lightly. Expecting to have to wipe the

screen of the splattered moth but seeing nothing on the glass, she

looked at the magazine - but there was nothing there either.

Mystified, she glanced back at the TV screen and though she wasn't

really looking at the picture, Sylvia thought she saw a fluttering

shape and Richard Gere ducking in panic. She snapped to attention and

stared at what looked like a moth as big as Richard Gere's head

landing on a wall in the movie, but before she could see clearly the

scene changed and Richard Gere's attention was back on Julia Roberts.

Sylvia blinked.

I must be going insane. Sylvia thought. Or overworked. A giant moth

would not have been out of place in The Mothman Prophecies (which is

very good, by the way), but certainly did not fit in My Best Friend's

Wedding. Sylvia tried to dismiss this strange image of the insect on

the wall, but once again the presence of the moth –this time in her

mind– prevented her from taking in the events of the movie. She rose

again and moved closer to study the screen, as if it could provide

some clue to her hallucination.

The television seemed quite normal. It looked like any other TV that

Sylvia had encountered; admittedly its remote had some buttons whose

functions were unknown to her, but she didn't watch TV enough to

bother finding out. In fact, her last few rental apartments hadn't

even had sets, but Sylvia and her flatmate Kellie had welcomed the

luxury when they discovered that it came with the apartment.

As if on cue, Kellie was heard opening the front door and entering.

She greeted Sylvia, whose attention was diverted from the enigmatic

television set to her flatmate, with whom she would now proceed to

gossip. Even though Sylvia found Kellie a bit light-headed and even

ditsy, she was good to talk to and they got along OK. Kellie was an

arts-and-media student – they were never reputed to be the sharpest

of people, but she was nice and their conversation was always

lighthearted – music and girlie things like boyfriends.

Sylvia went to bed with her mind on things other than televisions,

and while she slept and her brain sorted out the day's memories, the

incident with the moth was thrown into the memory junk pile.

A few days later though, she would remember the mysterious moth.

* * *

It was Sunday afternoon, and after a week in the new apartment,

Sylvia had decided she didn't like their initial arrangement of the

decor (actually, an article on Feng-Shui in ‘Cosmo' had inspired her

to create some positive energy in the living room). She had removed

several items on the sideboard and moved a sofa, and she was in the

middle of moving the TV, when she noticed something odd.

As she stood above the old television, dragging it bit by bit over

the carpet, her eye caught something weird. The screen seemed to

wobble as she pushed the TV. Maybe it was loose, she thought. Sylvia

got on her knees in front of the set and put her hands on the top

corners of the blank screen, in an effort to push it back into place.

When she touched it though, her fingers pushed straight into the

screen – it was made of jelly! She shrieked with the surprise, and

this attracted Kellie to the living room.

“What is it?” she asked. Sylvia showed her what had happened, and

when they touched other parts of the screen, they realised that the

whole screen was made of this weird jelly. They discussed it and

decided that even though this was highly strange and very irregular,

they wouldn't worry about it because it was an old set, maybe all

screens were built like that back then. Besides, it worked, and ‘if

it ain't broke, don't fix it', especially when you're on a budget.

And so the even more enigmatic TV set stayed where it was, the girls

too afraid to move it considering the screen's lack of solidity. The

room's Feng-Shui remained unimproved.

* * *

The happenings concerning the TV set came to a boiling point a month

later. Sylvia was on her way out and searching for her keys, when she

came into the living room. She was bending over near the television

looking for them when Kellie, watching TV while cooking noodles in

the kitchen, whinged when she obscured the screen.

“Have you seen my keys?” Sylvia asked in frustration, ignoring

Kellie's request to move.

“They're right here,” Kellie said and picked the keys up from where

she was cooking on the bench. Sylvia groaned in annoyance while

Kellie tossed them to her, in an uncoordinated effort typical of

girls who don't play sport. The keys sailed past Sylvia's legs and

Kellie cringed as she saw them heading straight for the TV set.

Sylvia whirled to see the keys strike the screen, then they appeared

to pass right through it. Slowed only fractionally by the jelly

screen, they careened right into the picture. Kellie had been

watching ‘Day's of Our Lives' and the keys slammed into the wall

between the two characters. As the people would have been only ten

inches high on the screen, to them the keys were giant and heavy, and

they crashed through the wall, demolishing it and skidding out into a

garden outside where they snapped two saplings in half and

disappeared through a large hedge, which swayed with the impact. The

two characters were aghast and while the woman fainted, the man

peered through the gaping hole in the smashed wall out into the

garden in disbelief.

‘Disbelief' would barely half-describe the state of Sylvia and

Kellie. Sylvia whirled around to Kellie, to ensure that someone else

actually saw what she saw, but Kellie's eyes were still on the

screen, glazed by the impossibility of what just happened. When

Sylvia turned back to the screen, the scene changed to another one

where there were two different people in a different place, and

everything was back to normal. Soon after a commercial break came on.

The two girls did not speak for two minutes, their eyes glued to the

screen which now displayed perfectly normal daytime television.

“That did happen, didn't it?” Sylvia said to Kellie, who didn't

respond. When she shook herself out of the stupefied daze, she

resolved to call a repairman.

* * *

For the major part of the hours in which they waited for a TV

serviceman to arrive, the girls sat mostly in silence. Only after two

of these hours did Sylvia's mind stray enough from the unbelievable

event to realise that she had actually lost her keys and she would

need to get them back.

At 6pm the repairman arrived, in good spirits to start with, but even

more lively when he saw that his clients were two beautiful young

women. Despite their obvious lack of cheer, he listened attentively

to their story and showed a friendly smile even with the insanity of

their claims.

“You're not insane at all,” he said, “in fact, I bet I know exactly

what type of tele this is...” and he requested to be shown the

offending device.

“I knew it!” he said as he entered the living room, “It's a

‘Segisant'! Haven't seen one in years... an ‘e10' model I believe.

Japs made it in the early 80's... great people the Japanese, but a

bit crazy ...but great people” and he proceeded to relate the story

of every Japanese person he'd ever met.

When his conversation returned to the TV set, he explained that the

company who made it was called Segisant and that their product never

sold well.

“It's a different type of technology,” he told the girls who were

overcome with all the new information, “instead of CRT –that's

Cathode Ray Tube– or Plasma or Rear Projection, this TV uses what

they called a ‘Televerse' technology. ‘Course the Japs didn't call it

that but I don't know the Japanese word. Here's how I understand it.”

He asked the girls (who didn't know what CRT, plasma, or rear

projection was) if they knew about parallel universes. They didn't,

but they nodded anyway.

“Well, they didn't bother giving the technical explanation back in

trade school, but they said that it was like...” and he racked his

brain for the appropriate quote from the television repairman's

bible, “‘Even if something has a one-in-a-million chance of

happening, in an infinite universe, it has to happen' ...and that's

because infinity is heaps bigger than a million,” he stated in a very

matter-of-fact way.

“So that means,” he continued, “that somewhere in this universe, or

in a parallel one, there is a world just like this one but with

slightly different things happening in it. In fact, somewhere out

there, there are an infinite number of worlds just like this one, and

if something slightly different happens on each one, then all

possible events will eventually occur.”

He saw that the girls' eyes had glazed over with the complicity of

his statements, which to him seemed simple truisms. He requested a

cup of coffee so that he could more slowly elaborate his points.

* * *

As the repairman talked, Sylvia slowly got the picture of how the TV

worked. The concept of infinite parallel universes, in which every

possible event occurred at least once, was mind-blowing, but she

accepted it for the moment. When he finished, she tried to sort it

out.

“So,” she said slowly to the repairman, but almost to herself as her

brain worked, “if something happens on TV... like someone dropping a

pen, the TV will actually show a world out there... where ...someone

is dropping a pen ...?”

“Right, bingo!” He replied.

“But it's not happening though; someone is filming and acting it here

on Earth,” Kellie interjected.

“But with your TV,” the repairman replied, “instead of showing

actors, it automatically finds a world where that exact thing with

those exact people is actually happening, and tunes in to that. I

think they wanted people to buy it because the things on the screen

would be real and not actors. I told you those Japs were crazy.

“Oh yeah, also,” he added, “because the TV is kind of like a glass

cabinet with your scene behind it, you'll never get reception

problems and the screen will always be clear as day, even on Channel

31.”

He could see that his explanation was not convincing, and he

continued.

“If you have a scene with two characters having an argument, then you

could find a world where there are two people with those exact

personalities having an argument, and because they have the same

personalities, then they will say the exact same things as the actors

will. So all the TV does is find a universe that has the exact event

that the actors are portraying and shows it on the screen as the

event unfolds naturally. Then, after however long the scene would

have lasted with the actors, it flicks to the next scene and a

different world.”

“OK, I'll buy that,” said Sylvia, not understanding finer points but

happy with the general concept, “but why is our screen made of jelly

and why did my keys fall into it. And where are my keys?”

“Well... I'm sorry but your keys are gone. They're sitting in a world

somewhere, and the people who were on the picture at the time are

wondering where the hell these keys came from. And as for your

screen, that's how it works, it's all in the screen. Your screen is

like a viewer that allows you to see the other universe but doesn't

allow them to see us – ‘coz if they could then they would see these

people staring at them and they wouldn't do what they would normally

be doing. It's just that the guys at Segisant couldn't make it solid

without ruining it.”

“So are the people on TV actually real?” asked Kellie, two steps

behind in the conversation.

“Yes they are, real as you and me. But they're not in the TV. Just

imagine that your screen is a hole sitting in the air like a portal

...just like ‘Stargate'. You seen that?”

“So why did my keys smash through a wall?”

“Because here, your screen is only two feet across, but there,

depending on the distance from the people, it might be two feet

across if it's close-up or it might be two miles across if its far

away, like from a plane or something.”

The girls were even more confused now than when they had first seen

the anomaly of the giant keys hitting the wall, and they ushered the

helpful but overeager repairman out so they could forget about it;

Sylvia's keys were lost and there was nothing they could do.

* * *

The girls went to their rooms and stewed over the weird happenings,

but when they came out at the same time, both having been struck by

hunger, they discussed it further before turning the TV on and

watching carefully. Despite their confusion, they were indeed

intrigued, and very cautiously they poked at the screen.

It was strange – at a light touch it bent in and deformed just like

jelly but with a sharp poke it split and allowed the object, a

pencil, to pass into it. Upon withdrawal, the screen's wound closed

quickly.

The turned it on and tried this again. Sometimes the people would

notice the pencils appearing out of nowhere; right out of mid-air, as

Sylvia understood it. Their expressions would change and sometimes

they would point it out, but in the very next shot they would be back

to normal.

Eventually Sylvia's curiosity got the better of her, and she phoned

the repairman. He sounded annoyed at the late call, but was happy

when he realised it was her and that she said she only needed to ask

a single question.

“Well, why don't you find the answer to that yourself? Try it – put

your hand in and grab something. They can't see the screen –or

portal– when it's closed, but if you poke a hole in it then it's

like... things can move both ways then.” And as an afterthought, he

added “But remember, they're real people on real worlds, and if

you're watching the news or something that's not fiction, then the

screen might actually be viewing a scene on Earth ...our Earth.”

* * *

After a night of mulling over his words, Sylvia told Kellie the next

morning, and she did not have Sylvia's fear and hesitation. Turning

on the TV, Kellie shut her eyes and thrust her finger into the screen

as if testing cold water in a pool. She withdrew it with a yelp (but

not of pain) and she looked straight to Sylvia, who said nothing.

An advertisement for office furniture came on, and with the stubborn

bravado of a child she thrust her hand in and took hold of a desk

chair, pulling her hand out in panic as if the TV were full of fire.

The panic soon receded as she and Sylvia stared at a six-inch high

office chair in Kellie's hand.

Sylvia reeled but Kellie was full of adrenaline and her face lit up.

“I can't take this,” Sylvia said, and headed for the door.

* * *

Outside, Sylvia's head was swimming, and its method of coping was

that of denial; she went about the business of replacing her keys

with peaceful serenity.

A visit to the keymaker where she copied Kellie's house keys, and a

trip to an auto electrician to sort out new car keys calmed her down,

and she didn't even mention the strange and scary television that sat

ominously back at the apartment to her friend whom she met for

coffee.

It would be there when she got home though.

* * *

In a light-hearted mood Sylvia slid the new key into the lock but the

extraordinary happenings inside rushed back to her as soon as she

pushed the door open, and she walked into the apartment with low

centre of gravity.

Sylvia knew Kellie was on the phone as she could hear a one-way

conversation, while she put her coat and keys down and put the kettle

on. Kellie realised she was home and snapped to attention.

“Sylvia! Hey, I want you to meet someone ...this is Tom.”

Before Sylvia recognised the illogicality that Kellie had been have a

one-way conversation to someone in the room, she turned around,

instantly interested to see the man who Kellie seemed so keen to

introduce.

Kellie was standing, but Sylvia saw no-one standing next to her, and

she looked straight to Kellie with an open mouth that was about to

question her, when her eyes fell on Kellie's outstretched hand, which

was wrapped around the waist of a human figure.

In the first moments of a surprise, the brain scans through all the

insane possible explanations of an event. Sylvia's mind came to the

immediate conclusion that Kellie was talking to a Barbie doll, but

this was disproved when the figure's arms swayed into motion, waving

at Sylvia.

This was too much, and she dropped to the floor.

* * *

Sylvia dreamed of a weird TV that things were jumping out of and

attacking her, and then she fell into it and there was a rope and

buildings and a big face in the sky...

* * *

She awoke to a strong smell and a headache. Opening her eyes, she saw

Kellie's face peering in concern at her, she had something in her

hand and as she blinked she saw it was a bottle. Kellie saw her

peering at it.

“This was the closest thing to brandy we had.” It was Midoori.

Lucidity crept insidiously back to Sylvia's head and she sat bolt

upright.

“Don't be afraid,” comforted Kellie, “you're just shocked, that's

all. I'll show you... just relax... see? It's Tom Cruise.” Her hand

went to the sofa behind her and Sylvia's heart froze as she slowly

brought it around and in it was a tiny man about eight inches high.

Sure enough, Sylvia saw a tiny head of black hair and recognised Tom

Cruise instantly.

Her mouth was agape until she got the courage to speak, “You... took

him out of the ...TV?”

“Sure, I put on Jerry Maguire. It works on videos too.”

“And he's real?”

“Totally, see?” and Kellie held him closer to Sylvia, who reeled with

caution. “It's OK, he won't bite, will you Tom?”

Sylvia jumped as a tiny voice squeaked out of this man that Kellie

held in her hand.

“I'm not Tom. I have no idea who Tom is! My name's Jerry!”

“Don't you understand?” Sylvia lashed at Kellie. “That's not Tom

Cruise, it's a real Jerry Maguire from another universe. He's a real

person!”

Kellie tried to calm her and convince her it was OK; after all she

told her, he was back in the movie in the very next scene – in fact

when she rewound it to the scene that she took him out of, he was

back again. She took Sylvia's hand and slowly pressed the placid man

into her palm.

Aghast, Sylvia looked at the person in her hand. Slowly, she came to

terms with the reality. Her fingers wrapped around the waist of the

tiny Tom Cruise. She could feel his chest heave and his arms lay idle

over the top of her thumb and forefinger. He was light – he couldn't

have been more than half a pound, she thought, as she lifted him in

the air and brought him to her face.

Her mind reeled as she turned him around in front of her eyes. He

turned his head so he looked at her constantly and watched as she

said ‘oh my God' and other absent exclamations over and over again.

Calmed and her thoughts in order, she lowered Tom to her waist and

turned her attention to Kellie.

“What made you think of doing this?” she asked.

“I guess I just wanted to,” Kellie replied.

“But how did you know it would work?”

“On video? Well it worked on normal TV.”

“What?” Sylvia exclaimed. “I meant how did you know it would work at

all! Don't tell me you tried this on someone else as well!”

“Of course!” Kellie looked at her as if she was from Mars. “After I

got that chair from the office ad there was a Nike ad and I got the

bald tennis guy.” With that, Kellie pulled the front of her T-shirt

open and reached into her top. She withdrew a figure much smaller

than Tom Cruise – he was barely more than an inch high.

“Kellie!” Sylvia's jaw dropped, as did Tom, who fell into her lap.

She straightened herself out and retrieved the man. Kellie's hand was

cupped and the tiny man, who was barely recognisable as Andre Agassi

stumbled around trying to keep his footing. “Why did you do this? And

why did you put him down your top?”

“I just wanted to I guess... I couldn't not try it. And he fits

there!” the last comment referring to his being in her cleavage.

“Don't tell me you got any more people –guys– out of that stupid TV

and put them down your top!” Sylvia exclaimed, but before Kellie was

about to respond her hand guiltily moved down to her crotch, and

Sylvia stopped her with an outburst. “I don't even want to know!”

She jumped out of her chair and thrust Tom Cruise at Kellie. “You

have to put them back!”

“But I tried that too. They won't fit, just like your keys.”

“So put them back in the same scene you took them from!” but Sylvia

didn't even need to hear a response; Kellie's look told her she had

tried that too. “Oh my God. What happened then?”

“Well, there were two Leonardo DiCaprio's –coz I did that on

‘Titanic'– and they looked at each other for a while and they were

real scared then the scene changed and it went back to normal.”

“Do you know that there will be two Leonardo's wandering round in

that universe forever now?” but Kellie looked blankly at her,

oblivious and not concerned at all. “I wish I could think –or not

think– like you! I really do! I'm going for a nap. My head kills, and

it's your fault!”

Kellie didn't have time to respond as Sylvia stormed off to her room.

* * *

Naturally she didn't sleep a wink, and she only stayed in her room so

that she wouldn't see Kellie and the stupid perversions that demonic

TV was creating.

As she thought about it, some thoughts rose out of the waters and

jumped up like flying fish, soaring into her mind. She thought how

she could use this TV and these thoughts excited her, but they were

instantly quelled by the reminder of the impact on someone else's

reality that this surreal and evil television was making.

Driven to frustration by the thoughts swimming around her mind and

her conflicting conscience, she got up to fetch some Panadol for the

headache that brewed, instigated by her fainting earlier. When she

reached the bathroom she heard Kellie's laughter and her curiosity

got the better of her.

Wandering into the living room, she peered towards the TV, which

blinked away alone. She looked towards the kitchen but Kellie was not

there, but another giggle gave her away behind the kitchen bench.

Sylvia took slow steps, backed close to the wall as she walked around

the bench to find out what Kellie was doing. The sight that greeted

her was Kellie sitting on the tiled floor, leaning against the

cupboards of the bench, with her legs spread wide open. Sylvia's gaze

went straight there, where she saw frantic movement.

There were a dozen –more than a dozen– figures scurrying around in

the open space between Kellie's legs, and when Sylvia saw a tiny

little frame an inch high and two inches wide, equidistant between

Kellie's feet, she realised that she had these tiny men playing a

game of soccer.

She was so involved in the game that Kellie didn't even notice Sylvia

standing there, and she gave a small shriek of laughter when the

miniature ball was pinged through the goals that were hidden from

view under her skirt, and obviously hit her in the crotch. Sylvia

watched as a man disappeared under Kellie's short skirt and returned

with the ball.

Only then did Kellie notice Sylvia and she looked up and smiled. It

was clear that the latter was disapproving, but Kellie's merriness

persisted.

“You're too up-tight Sylvia,” she said, “don't worry so much. These

guys are having fun. What's the problem?”

Sylvia didn't respond. In fact she did see the fun in it; she just

couldn't bring herself to approve. A few moments later the ball

rocketed past the opposite goals –Kellie's feet end– and bounced far

into the kitchen.

“Could you get that Sylvia? I can't get up and it'll take one of them

ages to run that far...” Kellie looked up at her, and the tiny men

all stopped and looked up expectantly. Sylvia suddenly felt

embarrassed, being looked at by so many people and she was in a daggy

tracksuit. Her anger at Kellie returned and she looked away.

She heard a sigh and when she looked back one of the men was running

halfway across the kitchen, she could hear tiny little playful shouts

and jeers at the teammate and she felt sorry that she was being such

a stick-in-the-mud. Crossing the floor, she dropped to her knees and

picked up the tiny ball in her fingernails and it rolled into her

palm. The man was still a foot from the ball, but now he was two feet

from the game. Urging herself to relax and be nice, Sylvia reached

down and picked up the man between her fingers.

It was a strange feeling, holding a person between her thumb and

forefinger, but she had to admit, it was fun, and a smile spread

across her face as she shuffled on her knees over to Kellie. With her

knees on either side of the feet-end goals she dropped the ball back

into play, and after giving a last smile to the man, whom she saw had

a tiny ‘27' on his shirt, she leant over and delicately placed him

back on the field. The men understood her change of mood and laughed

and clapped.

She watched the game for a few minutes before leaving Kellie with a

smile and an apology, which Kellie friendily dismissed. In her heart

she wished she could be as carefree as Kellie. She was heading for

her room in a slightly better mood when the television caught her eye

and for the first time her fear of it gave way to a bit of curiosity.

Kneeling in front of it, she flicked channels and waited for five

minutes before there was a scene with no people in it – an empty

room. With a rush of adrenaline Sylvia shot her hand into the screen.

It was an odd sensation; the ‘jelly' split easily like pushing

through thick custard and when her hand was through it felt cold on

her wrist as if it were water lapping on her skin. She wasn't looking

straight at the TV so she couldn't see properly where her hand was

and she was grabbing around uselessly.

Kneeling down further to see better into the set, her grasp fell on a

desk lamp, just as she saw the door swing open and the woman who

entered jump in shock. Sylvia too jumped in fright and her hand shot

out, a rush of exhilaration running through her body as if she had

just streaked across a football pitch.

Instantly the gap in the screen sealed and Sylvia watched the woman

stare straight out at empty space then faint. Had the scene lasted

any longer Sylvia's rush of excitement may have turned to guilt, but

the shot changed and the same woman now sat at her desk from a

different angle, and the lamp was there again. Sylvia looked at the

lamp in her hand. It was battered in her tense grasp, but it was a

two-inch high lamp nonetheless. She let out a laugh of relief.

This time when she went to bed Sylvia slept quite easily, as some of

her fears had subsided and her heart felt just a tiny bit lighter.

* * *

It took only a few seconds after Sylvia awoke the next morning for

the TV set to enter her mind, and her first reaction was again fear,

but she calmed herself. Thinking of Kellie and her carefree attitude,

she resolved to try to be the same – not just with the TV, but in

life in general. Her thoughts strayed from the television as she

daydreamed about what it would be like to be carefree, just as

everyone does when they realise there is something lacking in their

life.

Sylvia got out of bed, and her daydreaming had put her in a good

mood, so for the first time she wasn't annoyed at Kellie's sleeping

in, nor was she annoyed at the shoes left strayed in the hall or the

mess in the kitchen. She put the kettle on and leant on the bench as

it slowly boiled. Staring absently at the wall, she barely noticed

the movement on the bench below her until she felt a tap on her

finger and recoiled.

She got a shock when she looked down and saw the soccer team standing

around waving at her just at waist height. Feeling immediately

vulnerable, she covered her chest, which was clad only in a loose

T-shirt, but in only a fraction of a second it struck her that she

was being stupid – really, she thought, how well-dressed did she need

to be in front of a team of one-inch high soccer players?

Breaking into a smile, she knelt down so she was level with them.

Realising they were shouting to her, she reached over and switched

off the kettle, which settled immediately, and she heard tiny little

shouts of ‘breakfast!'. She looked up and saw that Kellie had a

baking tray laid out on the bench, covered in a tablecloth, and

tissues were strewn over it that had clearly been used as blankets.

In the centre was the lid of a coke bottle full of water. The fact

that Kellie was being responsible was another point in her favour,

and Sylvia warmed just a bit more to the lovable girl.

From the fridge she found a muffin and also replaced the water in the

coke lid with milk and put them both in front of the men, who were

appreciative and cheered, and her heart leapt. She laughed and leant

over them, watching them feast, but soon noticed that one of the men

was still waving and shouting and she turned to him. Seeing he had

her attention, he pointed downwards at something.

Turning in that direction, Sylvia looked on the floor but saw

nothing. She looked back at him but he shook his head and pointed

again, this time she peered closely at the bench where he pointed but

she was still mystified. When she looked at him she shrugged, but

this time he pointed to himself and pulled at his shorts, then

pointed back in the same direction. Sylvia clued on and looked at

herself.

She got a fright to see that, sure enough, there was one of the

players clinging to the top of her tracksuit pants – maybe the one

who had tapped her hand earlier. Her palm rushed to her front to

catch him if he fell, and with her other hand she reached down and

plucked him off between her fingers. The signaling man clapped and

the hungry others turned to watch. Some returned to eat but others

clapped too.

Sylvia brought him to her face and for the first time she spoke to

one of these tiny men, which possibly was a sign that she now

recognised them as people.

“How did you get there?” she asked in a patronising but playful

manner. The man held his head with a tiny smile and shouted something

inaudible then kissed his hands and held them out to her. Sylvia

couldn't help but giggle, and feeling daring in her happy mood, she

brought her fingers to her mouth and gave the tiny man a gentle kiss

on his face. The onlookers cheered and laughed, and she blushed and

put him down with a smile. He was number 27.

* * *

While she drank her coffee at the table Kellie awoke and came in, and

Sylvia watched while she went straight to the TV. Kellie knelt

patiently in front of it and Sylvia couldn't stand the suspense of

not being able to see what she was doing, so she moved over onto the

couch and watched from the side.

Flicking the channels, Kellie found a nature program and saw a shot

of some trees. She was practiced and her hand easily slipped through.

Sylvia stared attentively, but from the side Kellie's arm was

distorted , though she heard a ripping and cracking and her hand came

back into sight clutching a giant pine tree, ripped up at the roots

and now a miniature version of itself.

They both laughed. Staring at the tree in her hand Kellie said

hesistantly and with an obvious bit of embarrassment, “It's kind

of... fun. Being so kind of, well, powerful I guess.” Sylvia leaned

back on the couch.

Slowly, she replied to the statement, which both knew was revealing

and quite personal in a way, “Well, that's OK I guess. We don't

really get much of it anywhere else. Power, I mean.” She smiled at

Kellie and in that moment both girls felt connected for the first

time – even though they were OK flatmates, they had never been very

personal in their conversation.

It was a small breakthrough in their relationship, and Sylvia

confessed that she admired Kellie, her bravado and her carefree

attitude – the latter two were displayed in this episode with the TV.

“It's nothing, Sylv,” she replied with shining eyes, “have a go, it's

not hard at all.”

Sylvia replied that she already had last night.

“That was a desk lamp!” Kellie had obviously seen it sitting on the

coffee table. “C'mon, you can do it. You just said you wanted to be

brave.”

Comforted by Kellie's enthusiasm, Sylvia took a spot in front of the

TV and Kellie sat and watched eagerly for something for her to take.

Soon a car advertisement came on and a four-wheel-drive sat parked on

top of a mountain while the camera swiveled around it from afar.

“Take that!” Kellie urged, and Sylvia pushed her arm in and clasped

it hurriedly. The shot changed only a fraction after she withdrew her

arm.

She laughed with excitement and Kellie clapped. The vehicle was only

an inch and a half long and Sylvia's thumb and forefinger dwarved it.

She hopped back on the sofa and plopped her trophy in her lap.

“That's a great start!” Kellie said enthusiastically as she resumed

her place in front of the set.

Sylvia was genuinely happy about her catch – there was no way she was

comfortable with taking a person quite yet; she was perfectly content

to stick with inanimate objects for the moment. She watched Kelly at

work and thus didn't see the tiny man that had been driving the car

tumble out of the door and into her lap, and she would never know,

because in a moment she leaned forward to look closer at the TV, and

the miniature man fell between her legs and the car rolled on its

side, its door closing shut. Oblivious to the little person, Sylvia's

legs absently clamped shut while she watched Kellie excitedly and the

man's world went dark and very hot.

Perhaps if Sylvia had known about the person in the car, her spirits

would have been dampened as her conscience whirled into action, but

she didn't, and her attention was focussed instead on the lively

Kellie and the television.

They chatted as Kellie waited patiently for interesting objects to

pick up and pranks to play on people in the other worlds, which for

the better part were smaller than the girls, but sometimes were

bigger if there were extreme close-ups, like an ad for pimple-cream

that showed a girl's face on the entire screen, and who jumped in

fright when Kellie slapped her giant nose.

Ads were the best because there was the biggest variety. There wasn't

much fun to be had on the nature channel; though Sylvia laughed when

Kellie reached in and smeared the top of a snowy mountain with her

finger, making it hundreds of feet shorter. They both knelt in front

of the screen now and giggled together. Video clips were good too and

there were often sexy guys dancing in them.

When Kellie saw a three-inch tall Justin Timberlake she had to reach

in and grab him, with this time only a slight negative reaction from

Sylvia, who told herself not to be so up-tight. Kellie squealed in

delight and with no hesitation she pushed him straight between her

breasts, to a groan from Sylvia. Kellie's attention soon returned to

the television, but Sylvia's gaze remained on the pop singer wedged

in her breasts, and she was still a bit dismayed despite her repeated

efforts to relax her worries.

Her anxiety heightened as she watched; when Kellie leaned forward or

clasped her hands, her arms pushed together and her breasts in the

white low-cut T-shirt squeezed a bit and Justin Timberlake was

pressed in between them, and once or twice let out a gasp. When she

leaned back though, they separated with her movement and Sylvia saw

the man fall bit by bit further between them.

Eventually Sylvia could see only the singer's head protruding from

between Kellie's breasts, and she had to say something to her as she

was completely inattentive and oblivious to the man in her cleavage.

“Kel, I think you're hurting him,” and even as she spoke Kellie

leaned back to face Sylvia, her breasts wobbled and he disappeared

completely.

“Oh, he's OK, ...aren't you?” she said as she delved into her breasts

with her fingers and pulled the man out by his shoulders. He appeared

dazed. “You're such a sweetie, aren't you little man? ...Do you want

to hold him then Sylv?”

Sylvia objected but Kellie dropped him in her lap, and when Sylvia's

hand was wrapped around him protectively she felt better, and her

attention returned to Kellie's pranks. She accidentally squeezed him

a couple of times when she laughed, but she realised that she was

comforted by holding on to this little man and she held him closer to

her.

She laughed and laughed as Kellie relieved surprised hockey players

of their sticks and tapped their behinds with their own tiny sticks,

and hurtled giant skittles into scenes of morning sitcoms to watch

the characters startled reactions. They realised that the best things

were anything with long shots, as opposed to really quick short shots

like on videoclips, that changed too quickly before you had the

chance to do anything. A soap came on and in that there were be long

dramatic scenes, in which Kellie had time to lift the skirt of an

actress and watch the other characters run around in either panic or

laughter.

They discovered too that if a scene changed while their hand was

inside, it had no adverse affects; the people in the following shot

would just see it appear instantly and be shocked even quicker.

The playful girl planted her hand across athletic tracks and watched

the faster runners career straight into her palm and the slower ones

at the back stop in horror. She shot her hand in to catch a tiny

football in her palm and watch the bewildered players search the

field for the missing object.

They giggled until they were tired and Sylvia got up. “I'm going to

have a shower and get changed Kel,” she said, her chest painful with

laughing.

Only when she reached her room did Sylvia realise that she still held

Justin Timberlake in her hand. She stopped to return him to Kellie

but instantly realised the idiocy of that idea, and continued,

closing the door behind her. She put the singer gently on her dresser

and watched as he collapsed into a sitting position against a bottle

of perfume.

She paused and hesitantly said “I'm sorry about this... you must be

really confused,” she realised immediately how obvious and stupid her

comment was. “I mean, I'm sorry my friend pulled you out of your

video and put you...” Her hand went to her breast.

The tiny man spoke but only when she lowered her head to him did she

hear him ask where he was. She tried to explain as best she could,

but he was bewildered by her response. Out of answers, she left for

the shower.

* * *

Sylvia had almost forgotten about the pop singer on her dresser when

she returned from the shower clad in only two towels; one of which

was spent on her hair, so only the other covered her chest and waist.

She saw him and felt a rush of embarrassment, but this was again

quelled by the reminder that he was just a three-inch high man.

She told herself she had nothing to hide, but still remained very shy

and almost asked him to turn away. She didn't though, and dropped her

towel to the ground, replacing it hurriedly with underwear and a bra.

Just as hurriedly she reached for a pair of jeans but her thoughts of

Kellie and her carefree life snuck into her mind and she paused.

As if to overcome her fears she walked over to her dresser and stood

in her underwear in front of Justin Timberlake, who was beneath her

waist height and would have looked up at her huge body from just

below her crotch. She slowly reached for him and clasped his body in

her hand, righting him in her palm as she lifted his light figure

into the air to her face.

She was about to speak kindly to him when he stood in her palm and

shouted at her. She paused and he continued to abuse her with

swearing and cursing. “Hey,” she said, “I'm trying to be nice ...this

wasn't my fault,” but his verbal abuse continued.

Her mouth opened to apologise more but he shouted a particular phrase

of abuse that instantly reminded her of an ex-boyfriend, and she

thought of all her ex-boyfriends who had abused her in a similar way,

and she realised that she didn't have to take this from a man

standing in her palm. With a rush of adrenaline she did what Kellie

had done, what she had always wanted to do with all the other

boyfriends who had frustrated her, and planted the shouting man

between her breasts.

She looked down at him but as she was not nearly as voluptuous as

Kellie he simply stumbled uselessly between her breasts, supported

only by the centre of the bra under his feet. She reached in with one

hand and pulled open one cup of the brassiere and with the other hand

she shoved him right under it then released the fabric, smothering

him into her flesh where he could not move at all. Rubbing her hand

over the lump she looked in the mirror to find that he was a barely

noticeable protrusion.

Satisfied and excited by her bold move she pulled on a tight T-shirt

and a bright skirt instead of the dull jeans, and went out to the

living room. She felt exhilarated that she was talking normally to

Kellie, who was oblivious to her hidden secret, and didn't even ask

after his whereabouts. The feeling was thrilling and she knew she had

to go out in public with the unkind man squeezed in pseudo-punishment

into her bra.

Excusing herself, she left to do some menial tasks that didn't

actually need doing, like grocery shopping.

* * *

The trip to the grocery store was the most thrilling grocery shopping

ever. The products she was absently picking up never seemed so

inconsequential, and she had never paid so much attention to the

strangers she now stared at, while thinking of Justin Timberlake. It

was exciting and Sylvia knew that it was in a sexual way. She knew

because she had never so frequently rubbed her breast in a shopping

trip as she did now.

* * *

Despite the experience, she returned Justin Timberlake to the TV set

when she got home because she didn't want to care for him. She didn't

care where she put him; the people were only vaguely his height and

in fact she was pleased that they were slightly taller; in her mind

the pop singer already represented every bastard boyfriend she had

ever had.

She made herself lunch and assumed that Kellie was in her bedroom, as

the shower wasn't running and she wasn't in front of the TV. After

finishing she went to the bathroom and got the fright of her life

when she swung the door open to see Kellie in the bath.

“Oh Christ!” she exclaimed and retreated, shutting the door behind

her. Getting her breath back, with a laugh she said, “sorry Kel, oh

my God, I didn't know you were in there!”

Kellie responded with a laugh, but only then did the irregularity of

the scene hit her – Kellie had never had a bath here before... why

now?

“Can I just get my makeup bag?” she asked, not intending to get her

bag at all.

With Kellie's friendly affirmative response she slid the door open

and saw immediately what was going on. “What are you doing?” she

exclaimed. Kellie was lying in the bathtub, water with a thin layer

of small bubbles lapping her breasts and one knee raised high out of

the water. Kellie had known that Sylvia would have been disapproving.

“It's OK, they wanted to, I asked!” Kellie wasn't alone; the soccer

team was there; half a dozen lined up on the edge of the bath looking

up at the giant Sylvia, and the rest were dotted around Kellie's body

in the water – floating under her raised leg and around her chest;

one was attempting to climb her slippery breast and he slid off and

back into the water as Sylvia watched. Some were almost obscured by

the thin bubbles.

Sylvia was stuck for a reply for a moment, her inhibitions clashing

with her desire not to care, and in this uncomfortable moment Kellie

lowered her leg and raised the other in slight embarrassment, and the

men under her knee swirled in the moving water and popped back up to

the surface as others were caught by the rising leg and either

slipped off or stuck to it.

“Oh, jeez Kel, ...OK, I'm sorry, but I'm really trying not to be

up-tight,” Sylvia's internal struggle was resolved, but she paused

“but, well... where's twenty-seven?”

Kellie smiled with glee as she understood Sylvia straight away. She

turned to the men in the water around her and asked for 27, but she

didn't have to as he was already splashing like crazy after hearing

Sylvia speak his ‘name'. So Kellie's hand came up from beneath him

and he swam in a dwindling pool in Kellie's palm, from which water

dripped down her arm as she raised it up to Sylvia. In doing so she

sat up higher and her nipples rose from the surface, and the men on

the bath's edge cheered.

“Oh, shut up!” she giggled and when Sylvia had plucked 27 from her

hand Kellie flicked the back of each man so they hurtled into the

water in and around her.

* * *

Sylvia continued to hear Kellie's laughter as she returned to the

living room, the small man in her hand. They spent the afternoon

together – as ‘together' as any girl and a miniature soccer player

can be; she lay and watched TV and played with him. He ran back and

forth on her belly and clung to her finger when she held it above

him, she toyed with him by tapping him from behind then he pretended

not to know where it came from.

She was enjoying herself so much that she didn't even mind when he

climbed her T-shirt up between her breasts, then sprinting before she

could stop him he reached the seam and doubled back and under it into

her top. In fact she laughed, and made no effort to stop him while he

crawled under the fabric towards her breasts. She felt the tickle of

his hands and knees on her skin move down her cleavage until he

reached the obstacle of her bra, at which point he changed direction

and attempted crawling into the cup.

Her hand came up and she rubbed over the lump of his body and she

knew she enjoyed it. She laughed and made herself a coffee while 27

was squeezed into her breast. It was obvious he was getting nowhere

in the tight garment and by the time she lay down on the couch again

he was back in the centre and  she couldn't feel him for a moment

until she realised he had straddled the bra and was now below it,

crawling down her stomach. Watching the tiny lump move under the

fabric down her belly, she pulled the lower seam of the tight T-shirt

up a tiny bit so part of her waist was exposed, and soon enough she

saw him appear from under it.

He continued downwards and ran over her abdomen and into the dip in

her crotch, which slightly excited Sylvia, but she stopped him from

dropping over the edge of her skirt and between her legs; she wasn't

that comfortable and carefree yet.

The soccer player was full of energy and he ran all the way back up

her middle again and onto her neck. She tried to bend her eyes down

to see what he was doing, but when she felt him jumping against her

chin she knew he wanted another kiss. She picked him up between her

fingers and with a rush that reminded her of her first kiss back in

high school, she brought him to her lips, but decided against it and

placed him on the back of her fingers so he could kiss her instead.

He stumbled over her shaky hand and fell forward onto her lower lip.

Holding himself up, he planted his head right in between her lips and

she felt a tremble of excitement, despite the fact that this man was

a mere inch high. Her lips inadvertently parted by a fraction as she

kissed 27, and his head slipped more into them. Sylvia was enjoying

the kiss so much that she stopped only when she realised that he was

no longer standing on her fingers and that his body was supported in

her lips, his head actually in her mouth.

She hurriedly withdrew him by the waist and looked at him in front of

her eyes almost apologetically, but was relieved to see that the look

on his happy face showed he needed no apology at all. She pressed him

to her lips again before replacing him on her belly, her hands coming

to rest on either side of him.

Staring blankly into space and dwelling on her strange feelings, it

was several minutes before she looked back at him and saw he was

leaning up against her thumb and drifting off to sleep, obviously

worn out. Sylvia suddenly realised her own tiredness, and as

delicately as she could, she slipped her hand under him and rose to

go to her bedroom. He snapped to attention despite her gentle

efforts, but when he saw her press a finger to her lips he knew she

had only sleep planned he relaxed again, and by the time she laid him

on a tissue on her bedside table he had dozed off again.

Sylvia slipped out of her skirt, discarded her T-shirt and lay down

in her underwear, expecting only to lie in comfort and perhaps doze

at best, but soon she drifted fast asleep.

* * *

When she awoke, 27 was the first thing that came to Sylvia's mind and

she looked across to him on the bedside table, knowing she hadn't

meant to sleep. Her head snapped up when she failed to see his tiny

body in the tissue paper, and when she still couldn't see him she sat

bolt upright and swiveled her legs over the bed.

Sylvia immediately regretted this hasty action because she realised

that if he had have been around her on the bed, she would have

smeared him to a pulp with her legs, and she jumped straight off the

bed and whirled around to check it for stains, with a heavy heart.

Finding none she breathed again, but finding no intact soccer player

she remained tense.

No sooner had she stood up than she regretted this action too,

because if he were on the floor she would have crushed him under her

foot, but a search of the carpet eased her fears. She was still in

panic and scanned the bed and bedside table. Even though she had been

lying on top of the sheets, she delicately pulled them all off and

shook them gently, but to no avail.

She was on the verge of real panic when she looked at herself, and

her heart fell back into place with joy at finding the man. He was

tucked into the top of her panties and had been using her as a bed

and the underwear as his blanket. Her anger at him for causing her

the anguish of thinking she had smeared him into a stain was

completely drowned by her feeling of a kind of shy flattery when she

saw him there, trying to get closer to her. She felt wanted and she

liked it.

Bringing him to her face, her eyes showed this and he broke into a

smile and waved happily. She smiled back, but out of the corner of

her eye Sylvia say her clock flicker to 4:00 and with a rush of

realisation she remembered she was meeting a friend.

Exclaiming, she popped 27 onto her dresser and told him she had to

go. She whirled around to her clothes on the floor but stopped and

slowly turned back to the dresser. Asking almost shyly, she said, “

...do you want to... come with me?” He jumped on the spot in an

unsubtle response. She checked herself and said, “I can't... show you

to anyone,” but in response he merely pointed.

In the same way that she had looked on the floor when his teammate

had pointed him out on her tracksuit pants, she looked on the floor

of her bedroom before realising that this man too was pointing to her

pants – this time her underwear.

She understood and was about to say “No, I can't,” but her inhibition

was dragged away, screaming, by her new feelings, and slowly,

hesitantly, she picked 27 up in her right hand and pulled open the

panties with her left.

Stopped by an invisible barrier, her right hand shot to her face and

she looked at him, making sure that she didn't completely

misunderstand him, but he looked at her expectantly and she lowered

her hand again.

Like someone overcoming their fear and jumping off a diving board,

she felt a rush of exhilaration when she released the man above her

underwear, and it almost seemed as if he ‘plopped' into her panties

when his tiny body slid down the fabric and wedged into her skin.

She held open her underwear, staring down at him for what seemed like

an age until satisfied he was OK, then snapped the elastic back into

place. She stood there, thrilled, her mind swimming with good

feelings and still barely believing what had happened over the past

two days, before she came back to attention and went to get ready.

Sylvia was about to grab some jeans when she thought better of it,

27's wellbeing in the front of her mind, and instead picked up the

skirt she had been wearing. As she pulled it up she ran her finger

over his body so as not to squash him with the skirt's tight seam and

felt a reassuring wiggle.

Leaving the house in a hurry she headed for the coffee shop to meet

her friend.

* * *

This trip out into public was not quite as thrilling as her first

with Justin Timberlake, because Sylvia felt as if she wanted to show

the man concealed on her to people and not hide him. The excitement

returned when she saw her friend though and when she sat down and

crossed her legs, a spine-tingling rush of exhilaration went through

her.

Her friend picked up on this immediately and she began to probe

Sylvia for what it was – she knew straight away it was a guy, and

Sylvia told her the truth, but only half of it, and it was even more

exhilarating to tell her that she'd met a man while he was actually

there, squeezed into her underwear and her friend would never know.

When her friend asked what his name was, Sylvia recoiled and almost

said ‘27' before realising she didn't know it. Her friend mistook the

reaction for her being mischievous by not telling her, and laughed it

off, to Sylvia's relief.

Her mind was elsewhere throughout the entire conversation, and

several times she found her hand inadvertently over her crotch, her

fingers caressing the tiny body which was barely detectable through

two layers of clothing.

When Sylvia hugged her friend goodbye she became conscious of how 27

was being pressed in between the crotches of the two women and a

shudder of almost sexual excitement went through her, but her

eternally gossiping friend missed the subtle reaction and they parted

happily.

* * *

Sylvia and Kellie had dinner together, which was unusual, but then

again they had guests. The soccer team, which totaled eighteen

players, ran around the table eating from both girls' plates, some of

them playing soccer with a pea – an oversized and overweight ball,

but the girls found it hilarious nonetheless. Sylvia asked where Tom

Cruise and Andre Agassi were, but Kellie replied with a smile that

they were in her room. Besides, they didn't ‘play nice' like the

soccer team did.

27 sat only at Sylvia's plate and the rest of the team teased him

severely for it. The playful men took him by the limbs and tossed him

into her gravy. Sylvia wasn't watching but Kellie laughed and she

looked down at her plate, breaking into a smile. He was a sight,

angry at first thrashing around in the brown slop, but when he saw

the humour on Sylvia's face he played on it and started showing off.

Struggling out of the thick sauce, he dropped onto the table and

chased after his friends, leaving a trail of brown spots on the

tablecloth, but the girls shrieked with laughter, and encouraged even

more, he set his targets on Sylvia and raced to the edge of the

table, flinging himself at her chest before tumbling onto the girls

belly and into her lap. On any other occasion the neat and often

fussy girl would have snapped at someone staining her clothes but she

plucked him, covered in gravy, from her skirt and without thought put

him to her mouth and sucked the sauce from him.

The men saw this and immediately it was a slightly sobering thought

watching their friend momentarily disappear into the giant girl's

mouth because they suddenly realised their vulnerability to these

women and their dependence on their kindness to them. Kellie shrieked

with laughter though and being the kind, playful and gentle girl she

was, there was not a hint of cruelty in her voice and the men's

sudden fears subsided and they resumed their hilarity, their

momentary hesitation going unnoticed by both the girls.

* * *

Kellie went to her classes on Monday, but Sylvia called in sick –

there was no way she was going to work with all the happenings of the

weekend on her mind, and besides, she wanted some time with the TV by

herself – she had still not yet taken her own person from it. Even

though she felt comfortable with 27, she still felt anxious and even

fearful of other people.

With the soccer players distracted playing games on the tiled kitchen

floor and out of sight behind the bench, Sylvia knelt down in front

of the TV set and turned it on. Flicking channels, she felt nervous

and looked for something inanimate to take before starting on real

people. Finding another nature documentary she slipped her hand in,

feeling the now familiar sensation of the watery-custard screen, and

took an entire pine tree in her grasp. Even though it was rooted

firmly in the ground, it was only a slight effort for her to rip it

out, its branches crushed in her grip and its giant roots stretching

and snapping.

She realised immediately what

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simply because she was too tired to get up. Only when it got to the There was a moth on the screen. Sylvia put up with it for a while, There was a moth on the

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