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But the footsteps were coming back. Heavier this time.

Every step was a marathon. A fallen Cheeto was the size of a throw pillow. A dropped coin was a manhole cover. The air smelled of dust and static and something else—something sweet and huge, like a giant’s breath.

I ran. The carpet ripped at my bare feet. I dodged a fiber, leaped over a dust bunny the size of a boulder. She was already lifting her foot. -VR- Height 15cm Looking at VR Get smaller and ...

My roommate. The one who always joked about squishing bugs.

I started walking.

I staggered upright. My legs felt wrong—too short, too light. My shirt hung off me like a tent, one sleeve dragging on the ground. My heartbeat was a drum in my throat.

The door closed behind her with a sound like a bomb going off. But the footsteps were coming back

Not Sarah’s.