"AWAKE." It was a half-recalled voice, like one out of a dream. Who was this voice, so familiar to him? "Aren't I already awake?" he asked the voice. No visuals could be made out. "CLEARLY NOT, ELSE I WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN CALLED UPON." Rays of light shot through the sleeper's perception. He was in a bedroom, that at least was clear; but it was not [i]his[/i] bedroom. The walls were a different color and material; the sheets were cleaner; there were several more and different kinds of furniture present, and so on. Further, everything in the room was larger; the blanket of the bed he was on was bigger than the living-room carpet. The recently-awoken sleeper then saw the being from whom the voice had been coming. He was a tall humanoid, wearing pale-brown robes and holding a scythe. "GOOD MORNING, TASTY. I AM THE HARVESTER OF SOULS - WELCOME TO THE OTHER SIDE." "...the angel of Death?" the now-alert being apparently known as [i]Tasty[/i] said in shock. Aghast, the robed figure "HOME TO BETSY, NO! AZRAEL IS ONE OF THE ENEMIES; HE JOINED WITH LUCIFER IN THE REBELLION. HIS POWER OVER YOU WAS SHATTERED WHEN GOD THE SON SUBMITTED TO IT ON CALVARY. NO, I AM HARVEST, AND HAVE BEEN SINCE EDEN." "Where is the other side? What am I on the other side of?" "REALITY AS YOU KNOW IT IS LIKE A COIN; YOU WERE BORN ON THE HEADS SIDE, BUT NOW YOU'VE BEEN FLIPPED AND ARE ON THE TAILS." Tasty stood up, and found beneath himself a plush doll of Miles Prower. "YOU WILL NEED TO FIGURE OUT THE REST OF THIS FOR YOURSELF," The Harvester said, "FOR I AM NEEDED ANYTIME FRUIT NEEDS PICKING, ANYTIME GRASS NEEDS MOWING, AND ANYTIME SOULS NEED MOVING." With that, he vanished in the blink of an eye. Standing up, Tasty found that the room was even bigger than it had seemed at first. Once he started walking around on the bed, it seemed that the place had settled on a scale of him being about three inches tall, assuming everything else was sized normally. Looking at himself, he found his body to be covered in soft fur. The fur was mostly an unassuming, neutral brown; hands and feet were black; the chest and belly were white. Though he was certain he'd gone to bed half-dressed, on The Other Side he was in fact completely nude. Finding myself to be a completely diffent being in size, name, and physiology from the writer, I switched to first-person narration. I figured this would lead to less pronoun trouble if I encountered someone else who was male. I couldn't figure out [i]what[/i] kind of creature I'd become; ears, tail, color, and head shape were all generic enough that I could be just about anything. I had pointed ears, a tail as big as one of my arms covered in the same fur as the rest of me (black at the tip), and a slightly protruding muzzle. "I'm a cartoon critter." I decided in the end. "I'm not really anything in particular, just cute and humanoid." My senses seemed in no way alered; they had been good as a human, so there wasn't really much that needed improving. I smelled something fruity, and started walking toward the source. Brushing the cord-like fibers of the blanket with my paws, I recinded my previous assemsment, as at least in some places my tactile senses were augmented. At the foot of the bed, I looked at the floor down below. Hard wood, about two feet down. I wondered how I'd get off the bed to go exploring, but then I remembered the Square Cube Law. Basically, if something is half the height it is an eighth the weight; however, structural integrity changes at a different rate. If my body was as strong as it felt, the jump would be practically nothing if I remembered to bend my knees. The power of my legs propelled me almost a foot in the air before I started falling; I'd need to acquaint myself with this newfound strength lest I hurt myself. I landed with no complications. I walked over to the door. It was closed, but not locked, and apparently would lock from the inside. I couldn't jump up to the handle, not even on the third try. I resolved to find another way out; I did like this room, but I wanted to explore some other large places. I then spotted something I should have seen earlier. There was a hole in the corner of the door, on the hinge side. I needed to crawl to fit through, and did so. It definitely appeared to have been placed intentionally; it had been cut with a saw and then varnished like the other surfaces. Next came the stairs. They looked shallower than what would have been expected. Descending was not difficult at all. The living room and hallways were mostly dark; I bumped into a couple pieces of furniture as I followed my nose. Whatever the fruity scent was, it smelled delicious. The shag carpet of the living room held other scents - distracting ones. Little pieces of dirt you wouldn't normally notice can be considerable nuisances for someone three inches tall. I heard feminine humming in the kitchen, and this made my heart rise more than the smell of food ever would. It sounded alien, and yet familiar. It was the second voice I'd heard there, and it shared an uncanny attribute with the first. I put my foot on the tile floor; it was cold to the touch, making me hesitant to advance any further. Breathing deeply, I stepped into the kitchen. I liked the melody being hummed, and joined in. I saw the source of the sound; a gigantic female whatever was cutting fruit and putting it in a bowl. She, like me, could probably not be described more specifically than "furry humanoid animal", though in her case she was closer to five feet than three inches. She was a slightly darker brown overall, whith the white and black spots reversed; she had a black mask pattern around her eyes, like a raccoon. Her ears were white. Except her color (earth-tones, like myself), she matched my preferences in a female body almost prefectly; fur, pointed ears, protruding muzzle, tail, significantly larger than myself, and naked. This was not a sexy naked, either; this was a pure and innocent nudity, as expected from Renaissance artists in depicting Eden. I remembered my shame and covered myself. She glanced my way and, seeing me, squealed with joy. She put down the knife and walked over to me. I stepped backward a couple of times, both awed and terrified. She knelt down and picked me up with her right hand; I could smell the fruit on her left. She smiled. Flustered, I said "W-what do you want?" Sensing my fear, possibly processing what fear [i]was[/i], her expression fell to neutral. Neutrality changing to curiosity, she titled her head and asked "Why are you worried?" Still nervous, I said "I-I sense purity and goodness in you. I know that I am lacking in both of those things, and was afraid you would harm me beause that is right." Laughing, she said "Don't be silly! Even if it's the right thing to do, it's not my job to do it; that sad duty belongs to the Eternal Emperor." Her soulful yellow eyes were beautiful to stare into; each one was about as big as my head. The pupils were vertical slits. She walked over to the sink and rinsed off her other hand. She put me on the counter while he fished through the drawers. Getting out a piece of paper, she showed it to me asking "Isn't this a good likeness?" The picture was probably of me; apparently my ears were black, and my eyes had a white mask-shape around the eyes; blue eyes with round pupils. I said "What is it?" She smiled and said "It's you, unless there's someone else who looks the same. This is what I was told my lifemate would look like; oh, what beautiful irony that the picture was life-sized!" The picture had amazingly good detail for being drawn with crayon, but these were definitely Crayola judging by the texture of the wax. I looked at her; she was even more beautiful up close, when I could make out facial details, read the eyes, and see everything as bigger. I needed to keep dragging my line of sight back to her face. I said "I would hate to disappoint you, but I've fallen for someone already. I've been sending her notes for years, drawing art and writing poetry to the best of my ability, hoping that some day she might return my affections." Tears formed as I laid this out; I might be ruining the opportunity of a lifetime. But the thing was, I'd invested so much emotion into this pursuit, misguided and ill-fated as it might be, that I could hardly [i]think[/i] of starting to go after anyone else. She looked a little disappointed, but this didn't crush her spirit. She said "I think I understand. Are you sure you're following an Imperial Edict rather than your heart? Hearts are like eyes; they can focus on the wrong thing if you let them." As she said this, I had to pull my line of sight away from someting, and so the statement felt even more poignant that it already would have been. I said "I'm more certain that I love her than...than that the sky is blue, because it's as often gray as that. More certain that birds fly and fish swim." She said "As certain as The Lord in heaven?" Glancing over my shoulder as though to check for enemies, I said "Nothing can be that certain." She kissed me on the forehead, saying "I'm just as certain that you're made for me as you are that you're made for her. In the same way, that would mean I'm made for you." She certainly had a lot of my favorite qualities. She was gentle, confident, and full of energy. She was probably as wise as me, if not wiser. why shouldn't she be right? Why should I hold out on this girl right before me, like something straight out of my personal fantasies, to keep going after the girl back home? Because it wasn't [i]right[/i]. Maybe this world was some sort of trap with her as bait, or a test of my virtue. Even if it was real, though, there was still a good reason I should not take advantage of this woman who was basically built like a checklist of my favorite female stuff. Turning away, I said "I can't take you; you're too pure. I would only bring you corruption and death." "Death?" she asked. I turned and said "I'm from another world; The Other Side, you might say. In my world, when God gave man the garden of Eden, he ate fruit from the one tree that was forbidden. Death entered the world through that first man, and all his descendants carry the curse." She patted me on the head and said "You poor darling! Let me get you something to eat." She pulled a piece of fruit from the bowl and handed it to me. I said a quick blessing before I ate. It tasted like pineapple, but was textured more like a centeloupe. While I ate, she said "I'm not as pure as you think I am. This world has sin, too, just maybe not as much as yours does." All the sugars were making me sleepy. She picked me up and put me on her head; without dropping me, she was able to walk out the door into the world at large. She said "Watch the sunrise with me; it's a really beautiful thing." The sun rose; it was red like a rose. The sky turned various shades of brown, with occasional red and orange in there. This was not a sunrise I was used to. "It's so alien," I said, "but it's still beautiful." It was then I realized that the sun was rising in the West - somehow I knew that it was the West I was facing. Birds all over the place broke out in song; it was the same melody that she had hummed earlier, and she picked it back up now. The vibrations touched my core a lot sooner when I was in contact with her, and I too joined in. She sang to it [i]"You cannot be all that wrong, You are not torn apart: No man hears the Forest's Song With sin upon his heart! Get the dancing off your chest, Join the music of the blest! This song all good creatures sing, Praise and thanks to the True King."[/i] She began dancing, and so I held onto her hair while she moved about. [i]"Where there is life there's also hope, Where there's hope the world is bright, Brightness brings the plants to life, Plants grow food to feed your wife Wives well fed aren't prone to mope! Join the song, blessed children; Join the song, ring out the praise: Glory to God, earthen children; Glory to God, the song we raise!"[/i] I would not be able to reproduce that melody, even as good as I am at humming or whistling. Were I a musician, I'd probably be accused of plagiarizing several parts of the melody; I'd put this down as good musicians being truly inspired by heavenly song. Not that this place was heaven, just closer to it. I joined in, knowing the lyrics as if by instinct. [i]"Lonesome traveler do not weep, God our Lord upholds the weak. Transplant eggplant, spud, and leek; Grass that's green is what we seek Go off, return, and learn to speak, Home forever may you keep! All the earth should now rejoice; Dance around and raise your voice!"[/i] Half of the lyrics were making sense to me, but I sang the rest anyway. Once the sun had finished rising, we stopped singing, though the birds kept the melody going as a background tune. The sun was red, disctinct and rosy. Its corona was also visible. The sky was blue here as back home, but as I looked to the things nearer the ground I was in for a shock. The leaves on the trees were pink, purple, and orange. The grass was a blue green (though still recognizably green, not cyan). Autumn leaves and the sunrise had traded palettes. It had been winter, not yet ready to turn to spring, where I'd left; here, it was solidly autumn. She said "Today is my Sabbath, so we've got the day to ourselves." So saying, she took me off of her head and put me down in the grass; she laid on her belly to keep our eye levels close. Much of the grass was taller than myself, but clearly trimmed regularly. I walked around and appreciated a lawn that looked like a bamboo forest. To reduce my perceived need of covering myself with my hands, I picked a pink leaf from a nearby raked pile and tied it to myself using a blade of grass like a belt. She asked "Why do you cover yourself?" I was too ashamed to answer at first; she seemed to think it was embarassment at something personal. "Your body is not to be ashamed of; it's rather cute." This I answered thusly: "It is not shame of the body that requires covering, but shame of the soul. When Adam, the first Man, ate the fruit of knowledge he became aware of nakedness. Where I come from, a woman doesn't hide her body from her husband's body, but from the sinful souls of other men; likewise, vice-versa." Giggling, the woman said "But you're not sinful; maybe in the past or something, but you can hear the Forest's Song, and even sing along! Maybe your soul is small and stunted, maybe it's scarred from past wounds healing, but you're not hurt right now." I said "Can you be certain of all that? I don't know much about your world, but I can hardly understand how a song can show my virtue." She said entheusisatically "'Tis a song of Creation. A wounded soul lacks the ears to hear them. But if you must doubt, I can bring you to the Judge who Judges Justly." A chord of fear shot through my heart like a lightning bolt. I was frozen stiff, and thought of running. I started panting; I knew but one Judge of that description, and meeting Him would be gloriously frightening. Yes, the same guy we call by all sorts of names throughout this story. It's obvious that we're talking about the God of Israel, His only begotten Son, and the Holy Spirit who is one with them both. She patted me on the head and said "I'll take you to Him after lunch. Nobody can straighten things out like He can." The Eternal Emperor, King of Kings, Lion of Judah, Prince of Peace. Crystal Dragon Jesus. Whatever name you felt like using, it sounded properly impressive; even 'Josh the carpenter.' If this were true, that He was really here in the flesh on The Other Side, I might have to give up on my old world. Then I remembered the Eucharist and the statement 'Whatever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me.' He was by no means absent from my home. Perhaps stepping out of my own world and looking into one, even as magnificent as this, was to help me get a good perspective of how marvelous my own homeland is. Surely brown leaves and a pink sunset are as exotic as pink leaves and a brown sunset? Interrupting my philosophising, she said "We ought to go back in and have breakfast. I'm hungry now, and that tiny body of yours ought to get hungry again soon enough." I waited for her to sit up, then jumped into her hand; when I overshot, she snatched me out of the air. It was a thrill, for certain, and led me to trust her all the more. "What is your name?" she asked while opening the door. I answered "Here I am Tasty. My name was different back home, though I cannot say why." Setting me down on the living room table, she said "My name is Comforting. Comforting of the Joy family." I sang "[i]Comforting Joy, Comforting Joy...to all the world bring Comforting Joy[/i]." She giggled again like a little girl who'd heard something she found clever. Good humor was a wonderful trait to have, though I'm not sure if she was familiar with the song I was half-remembering, and less sure still that what I'd done was funny. She went into the kitchen humming the Forest's Song. She came back in not long after with two bowls. Setting them down on either side of me, she sat in her chair and said "One is fruit, the other is grain. Take all you want; I'll eat after you're done." I surprized her by managing to eat three pieces of that fruit and six of what I must assume were Cheerios. I became very tired, losing focus and alertness. I laid down and slowly dozed off. She ate in a slow and dignified manner, opening her mouth only to put small portions of food in it. Once, just before I drifted off, she yawned; I loved the view, and it helped me fall asleep. She woke me up by licking my face. Cheerfully, she said "Naptime is over, it's almost time for lunch." She carried me to the restroom, and looked away until I told her I was finished. She seemed to have as good a grasp of when my body would need things as I did, if not better. She indicated that it would be easier for me to wash if I took off my loin-leaf and let her operate the sink and the soap, and I conceded. I was feeling plenty pampered when she dried me off. A new thought occured to me. "What use will I be to you? I'm not strong enough for most work, and you seem to take pretty good care of yourself already. The appliances are scaled to you, leaving me reliant on you for almost everything; what is there that you even [i]could[/i] rely on me for?" As I tied my garment back on, she said "Everyone is made to do [i]something[/i]; maybe you're supposed to be an artist, or a poet, or a writer. Maybe you're supposed to clean hard-to-reach places. Don't sell yourself short based on your size; there are many times when it matters, but not always for the worse." Lunch was grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. This meal being closer to my waking, and me intentionally holding back on eating, allowed me to be more alert afterwards. Once we'd both finished, she picked me up. She wanted me on top of her head again, but I insisted on the shoulder. Again I clasped her hairs to hold myself on, though I probably didn't need to. She walked for a few miles, and I took in the scenery as she went. Other houses, other lawns, modern sidewalks and roads (though with little traffic), friendly people greeting each other by name, and so on. She introduced us to everyone we passed; I found half of their forms so monstrous as to trigger my instinct to hide. Some of them were even avian! The people usually came in pairs, though of matching sizes, often with coloring elements shared between members of a couple reversing. She would actually be considerably [i]less[/i] out of place with me on her than without. When I inquired about the sparse number of people about, she said "Six sevenths of the world is working right now; they're busy toiling away at their jobs. The only people having recreation and relaxation until sunset tonight are people like me, who have Forest Day for our Sabbath." I learned that the days were named after what was created on them; Light Day mapping to our Sunday; for the rest of the week Heaven Day, Forest Day (Also Grass Day, Earth Day, or Sea day in other biomes), Star Day, Bird Day (Fish Day in some places), Man Day, and Rest Day. We arrived at a completely mundane looking house; or at least, that's how it looked from the outside. She knocked at the door, and it was opened. When we entered, the place was magnificent like a temple or cathedral. A dragon stood on the dais. He said [b]"What business have you in the house of God?"[/b] I said "This woman thinks we're supposed to be mates, but I'm apprehensive." The dragon eyed us both rather thoroughly. [b]"You look like a matching pair to me. But then, I'm not the Judge; He'll be here shortly."[/b] The dragon flew to the ceiling and rang an enormous bell. I looked at Comforting, and she said "Dragons are the priestly class. They answer all the little questions that don't need omniscience." I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned to see the unmistakable Jewish human that was Jesus of Nazareth. He said "You rang?" He had Comforting sit down, and we ran through our situation. I was awed at what I was seeing: the very living Son of God was here, talking to me. I always knew my prayers were heard, but here I could hear them answered. Jesus said a few things I simply couldn't understand, but he confirmed that Tasty and Comforting were indeed created for one another; however, the possibility that I was somehow here to distract her from a [i]real[/i] Tasty, who was not me, was brought up. By me. In closing, the Master said "Are you still sure you want the woman back home? Has she not broken your heart once because you mistook friendship for affection? Here you will always be tempted to sin, but you'll find fewer tempting things because the whole world does not groan with you. Your soul was wiped clean when you accepted My death at Calvary and wiped clean again each time you dirtied it when you went to confession. You can continue not to sin for the rest of your life, enjoy yourself here and have a wife. You always have a choice; come back next Forest Day and I'll send you back, if you choose to go." I was crying, and didn't really have time to answer what he'd brought up. We thanked him, and Comforting walked back to her house. I fell asleep on the way. *** When we got back to her home, she said "We aren't siblings and we aren't mates yet. Is there some sort of rule about how we should share a home like this?" I said "Back on the flipside, it was a dishonorable thing for a man and woman to live together when not married. It brought up the temptation to get physical without the love and commitment, extremely bad conditions to raise children under." She was aghast at the scenario I'd just described; every bit as much as a good person ought to be. I was growing rather fond of her. Coming up with a solution that didn't involve marrying her, I said "If we sleep in separate rooms, it should be no harm; any room in your house is bigger than most houses I've been in, to my current perception." We ate supper, though I would have a hard time describing what exactly the food was. She was as playful with me as she was gentle, and this was another thing that made Comforting comforting. She gave me a washcloth to use for a blanket and set me in the upstairs bathroom (which, like her bedroom, had a hole in the door especially for a person like me). She also gave me a couple of little dishes; one of the Cheerios and one of water. She said "Your fast metabolism will probably require you to awake during the night, and eat again to fight off the cold if nothing else." Placing me on the sink, she said "I've seen your jumping ability; you should be able to get everywhere you'll need to from here. And if you get stranded on the floor, don't be afraid to wake me up." Her kindness was truly heartwarming. I thanked her with great sincerity. Realizing something about her house's structure, I said "You were surprized that I was so small, but you have tiny holes in two doors of your house, as though made for me. Why?" Shrugging, she said "The house just came that way, though I'd mused on the possibility that you might be this small before. I didn't know the family that lived here before I bought it, so maybe the wife or one of the children was small like you." Despite its being designed with another goal in mind, the washcloth did make a decent blanket and mattress. The rest of the night passed with little significance. *** I awoke before dawn again. I had managed to get down from the sink, and had begun descending the stairs when I heard her door open. I had assumed that she would be downstairs already. She didn't expect me to be on the steps, either; I was so blessed that I had not stopped going down one step higher. I will confess I had admired her visually as she passed overhead, but I was also so frozen with fear that I could not move or speak. When I finally did regain my composure, I jumped forward and grabbed her tail. I said "I trust you don't mind me hitching a ride." She stopped and looked around, and asked "Of course I don't. Now where are you?" Climbing up torawrd the base of the tail, I said "I'm on your tail right now." I climbed up her back as she finished going down the stairs, through the living room, and into the kitchen. Shortly after I had seated myself on her left shoulder, she plucked me off and placed me on the counter. She was really enamoured with me; many of the conversations we had revolved around or related to us marrying. Now, some of you may wonder about a man and woman with this much size disparity marrying and having children: if you are the sort that thinks this kind of thing through, I have nothing to add here; if you are not, just accept that there [i]are[/i] ways it can work and don't think dwell on it too much. She really wanted me, and I could tell. As much as I wanted to give in and say that I'd let her take me, I just didn't feel it was right. I wondered about such one-sided infatuation, about how she could be so desirous of me while knowing so little about me. Then I remembered the woman back home; how I felt the same way about [i]her[/i], how I was so strongly set on winning [i]her[/i] over, how I felt this great and amazing connection just from seeing her name in my inbox. During breakfast, Comforting informed me that she would soon be heading off to work, and I was free to go anywhere in the house I pleased. She left a bowl of food on the floor, indicating that this was for me to eat throughout the day. Once she'd gone, I found that all the doors without holes in them had been left open, even for closets. She really wanted me to explore the things of her life. There was a closet for towels and washcloths, a closet for cleaning supplies, and a closet full of hand tools and miscellaneous homebuilding supplies. There was a bathroom on the main floor, with an actual bathtub instead of a shower. It was cleaner than the one upstairs; probably kept fastidiously tidy and used less often. There was another bedroom, and a room full of electronics. This electronics room had a TV (80s-era), a home computer (circa 1995), a couple of unopened backups for the toaster, and a backup microwave oven. Only the computer was plugged in. I decided to leave exploring that for another day; I'd be here for a week, it seemed, and she worked six days of it. I did go back into the livingroom to eat periodically, and took frequent naps. I didn't think I had the time to explore the basement that day, either. I didn't want to be a bad guest, and needed something to do with my time. I went into the closet of cleaning supplies and found an old toothbrush. It was much longer than my body and quite unwieldy, but I managed to use it anyway. I brushed the cracks between the tiles of the kitchen floor. I had finished about two square feet of the floor when she came back. She thanked me for being so helpful; I knew she could easily do what took me an hour if she had a few minutes, but she had a job and I didn't. She picked me up and handed me a mint. I didn't even taste it before falling asleep in her hand; Comforting lived up to her name. Even knowing that it would cause the event to take longer, she had me brush her teeth. She lamented that I didn't have a brush to use for my teeth, and stated that she'd have to get me one. I loved looking into that gaping maw. Before she could thank me for brushing her teeth, I thanked her for letting me do it. We went to bed as the night before; a few hours later, she awoke me while entering the bathroom. She quickly begged pardon, having forgotten that I was staying there, and went downstairs. I went back to sleep. *** Each day had a song of its own. The Song of the Birds was one of high energy and fast movement; hearing it made me feel a desire to fly. I was left with a bowl of food again. She made me feel like a beloved pet; I did not mind this in the slightest. It was like everything that I had found of her was another thing to love. That sounded eerily familiar to me; it was because I'd thought exactly that way of the woman I'd had a crush on back home. I thought on this for quite a while as I explored the dim, damp, cavern-like basement. The basement looked like a cave straight out of a Dungeons & Dragons campain; basically several interconnected rectangular rooms with stalagmites, stalactites, and occasional storage containers. The only things missing were the bloodthirsty monsters. I did manage to find a couple of skeletons that had probably been mice in life; thankfully, they were in a state of normal death rather than magical animation. One of the boxes was rather small, like one a man would keep an engagement ring in until he sprung it on his significant other. It had a lock which I found I could easily get past, but I decided it was a private affair of hers what it contained and left it closed. I did bring it back upstairs with me to ask her about later. I got the toothbrush out again and picked up where I'd left off on the kitchen floor. Comforting had put an old coffee mug full of soap and water on the floor for me to clean the brush with, and this allowed me to make much more progress than the previous day. I was sleeping in my empty food dish when she got back home. It seemed a little later than the day before, but then I wasn't exactly on a regular schedule. Comforting was in positively [i]glowing[/i] spirits. She set a little bag on the table, then reached down and picked up the bowl in which I'd been lying. I was half-awake and vaguely aware of what was going on. She said "Today I've got some things for you. You can have them after we bathe." I thought she meant sequential baths, or me in the sink while she was in the tub; I did not think that she'd meant we'd be taking a bath together. I tried swimming, as I used to fancy myself somewhat good at it, but Tasty was a leaner creature than the writer and needed considerably more effort to stay afloat. The waves produced as Comforting scrubbed herself were simply too high for me to continue trying to do this. To my perceptions, it was as though her body were a series of dark islands and the bath a stormy sea. When she stopped scrubbing and just laid down to relax, there were three places high enough for me to count as dry land, and one of them was too sheer for me to mess with. I sat in the shallow water by her right breast, sometimes feeling her heartbeat. When she awoke and sat up, I fell into the tumultuous water. Some of this dirty, soapy water got into my nose and eyes before she saw me and scooped me out. She apologized and I forgave her. She rinsed me off in the sink and dryed me off with a hand towel. I put my loin-leaf back on; it was starting to dry out and crumble at this point. Comforting opened the bag she'd brought home: it contained small items, including a bed and a toothbrush. They were sized for people only slightly larger than myself, say four or five inches tall. She told me that her job was making doll furniture, though until this point in her career she'd never had a reason to bring any of her pieces home. I hugged her finger, but told her I still wasn't planning on staying beyond the next Forest Day. She did not lose her smile. We ate supper as usual. I once again brushed her teeth; she returned the favor, and showed a great deal more finesse than I would have expected even from my experiences of her up to this point. I did wind up asking her to let me do it for myself the next time, because even for all her finesse she still couldn't get it quite right. We went to bed. This time I had a bed to sleep in. *** On Man Day the song exhuded an aura of confidence and leadership. I got out of bed and picked up my loin-leaf; it was simply in no condition to wear, and I no longer felt an emotional need for it. The only person I would really be wearing it for had already bathed with me and went about letting me see herself [i]au natural[/i]. The day's song only made me feel more natural about this. After breakfast I was once again given a day to explore, clean, and eat. I decided to work on the floor first; I remembered the box I had found in the basement, and decided I would bring up the subject later that day. After a midday nap, I turned on the computer. The operating system had a name I'd never heard of, but its layout looked exactly like Windows 95 in everything but the logo. I found it was hooked up to the Internet, and decided to explore a bit of that to see if it was as fun as the one back home. I found sin on the Other Side, for the first time really. There was much less of it, but I could see why she didn't use the computer very often. Their one wiki-like website was, as best as I could tell, a reliable reference site, broad as Wikipedia, thorough as TVTropes, entertaining as Oh Internet, and fact-checked against reality with citations. I found deplorable sites resembling certain *chan imageboards. I found webcomics of the usual quality. I found a forum for discussing tails (seriously, just that one piece of anatomy?). Then I found something I liked, and loathed to like. I saw slightly-dressed versions of the kind of creature Comforting and I were - they wore only enough clothing to bring the eyes toward what I did not want to want to look at. I should have closed the browser right then, hard as it was to move the mouse. I should have turned off the web browser, or at least turned the page back and looked for something else. Instead I did something deplorable; I moved the cursor over the 'MORE' button and clicked it. It was then that the Song of Mankind gave a single shrill note and abruptly stopped playing in my head. I knew what I'd done then. I had dashed my innocence to pieces; the very same innocence which I'd spent the past few days slowly regrowing. I was bad and it made me feel bad. I could hardly eat or speak. When Comforting came home, I needed to ask her to repeat what she said multiple times. She asked me why I now went back to covering myself with my hands when I'd been fine that morning. What could I say? The truth, obviously, but I instead said nothing. She comforted me still, but I was feeling distant from her, now even more than the moment I first heard her humming. She knew something was up, but seemed not to dare to think the obvious. When she asked me what happened for the third time, I broke down crying. She brushed her teeth herself that night, and when we bade eachother goodnight I felt that my words came out cold and insincere. I went to sleep, but only for a time. The disgusting things I'd let myself see in the day haunted my dreams in the night. I managed to get myself out of bed a little too late. I admitted to myself now that I needed help, and so I jumped to the toilet and used it (as I'd built up something else in the night) and then got down to get Comforting. I jumped from the floor to the point where I could grab an overhanging piece of her blanket. I crawled up, pulled myself onto the bed, and expected to see her sleeping. Instead, I saw that Tails doll again. I saw [i]half of[/i] that Tails doll, and knew where the other half must be. I cried in horror at what I saw. Comforting saw me, and for the first time since we'd met she showed shame. She pulled the blanket to cover herself, inadvertently knocking me on my back. "I'm sorry!" she said, "I'm so very, very sorry. It's just that I thought...I thought you didn't want me, and decided to gratify my body elsewise. It was wrong, I know." She sobbed. I walked up to her and tapped her to get her attention. "What you did was wrong," I said, "but I came in here because I have wronged you." I told her what I'd found on the Internet, and how the song had died in my head and heart. I said that I'd tried to keep my spirits up, but couldn't really be as good to her as I'd wanted. We apologized to one another. I advised her throw her tails doll away, it being a temptation and ruined as a toy anyway. I also suggested forbidding me from her computer should I decide to stay; she went through with the former, but disavowed the latter. She called the office of her empoyer, leaving a message that she'd be late for work the next day due to a spiritual illness. She then called the church to make an appointment for two confessions the next morning. We both had our bedding in the wash, and so though she had to make her bed again before going to sleep I had to sleep once more wrapped in a washcloth. Having had a real blanket so recently made me realise how uncomfortable this was. *** Waking up on Rest Day was eerie for me. For Comforting, it was very difficult. We did brush our teeth, but we postponed breakfast because we had bigger fish to fry. (Apparently she'd never heard the expression before, and the idea of frying fish actually grossed her out; it was here that I realized that nothing I'd eaten since arriving contained any sort of meat.) We had a much shorter walk to this church; she explained that the most local priest had the same Sabbath that she did, and so she needed to take a long walk to have any sort of observance outside of her workweek. There was near-complete silence as she trekked a single mile, me in hand. I heard only her bare feet pounding the pavement, her breathing, and a few extremely minor biological noises. The dragon priest heard our confessions; hers first, mine second. Having paid attention to the narrative, you no doubt know what sins we confessed before God. The secrecy of the confessional is sacred, however, and in God's eyes our records were wiped clean. I will not state what penances we were prescribed, though you may be able to infer it. The music on Rest Day had the tempo of a Gregorian chant, and that seemed to be roughly the way that people sang along to it. Not having time to head home and catch up on our eating, she went into a nearby fast food joint. She had a small order of fries, and a couple of things off of the value menu. She stated that, were she not feeding me as well, she'd have taken the even smaller fries listed between her drink and her vegetable medley. Though I did eat a fry, Comforting learned at this point how much I liked broccoli. I ate until just before I became full. She put me in the take-out bag while I slept, then walked to work. Once awake, I rustled a bit in the bag. She pulled me out and placed me atop her head just before entering the workshop. Once we were at her bench, she put down the bag of food and pulled something out of a drawer. It was a rosary, and looked to be made out of sapphires and rubies. She handed it to me, having me lead the prayers while she worked. It caught my attention around the third decade that she put me on top of her head in part to symbolize leadership and headship of the man in a household. She was aggressive to get me into her life, but she wanted someone to submit to and be dominated by. This psychology, again, mirrored my own in an unsettling way. Every so often, she would take me down and use me as a scale reference for some toy she was crafting. She said "Most dolls are about six inches tall, but you're only half that. Some children will like having even smaller things around." She strapped a magnifying glass over one of her eyes, grabbed some tweezers in each hand, and started applying thread to some beads. After an hour of doing this, she had made a tiny rosary; the colors were the same as the one I held, but the beads were clear plastic rather than sparkly stone. Comforting put her jeweled rosary back in the drawed once we'd finished, handing me the rosary she'd just made. "Another thing for you," she said, "It should be more convenient to use." [i]And easier to lose[/i], I thought wordlessly. She needed more frequent breaks, owing to my fast metabolic rate. In hindsight, there is a way we could have done it differently; I wouldn't have wanted to, but that would have been better than interrupting her work like this. I asked for a length of string to tie around my waist; even when clothes are needed neither for insulation nor for decency, a belt is still a nice thing to have. I wondered why no one else I'd seen was wearing one. Apparently my presence inspired a flood of creativity for the loving toy-maker; she crafted many oddities outside of the scope of her usual routine. I liked this, and would comment ones that stuck out particularly to me. At quitting time, she showed me off to a few of her co-workers. They generally thought I was cute and wished us good fortune. I think I blushed when they wished us to build a large family, not that it would have shown through my fur. When we got back to her home, we finished the food she'd bought at the restaurant. We also ate a little bit more fruit; this stuff had the texture of a pomegranate and the flavor of watermelon. We brushed each others' teeth, then went to bed (I decided that pained gums were a character-building experience). I slept soundly twice that night. *** I woke up and was struck with inspiration. [i]"/ Lord, protect my soul from sin / Let my lover let me in / Teach me how all good is found / Grant my ears to hear that heavn'ly sound / In You alone can freedom win! / Lead me to love as you do love / Let me love her as you love me / Lead us to it, let us go through it / Open my eyes, I wish to see / To live and love eternally / Earthly love is not enough / I prase you, Lord, in heaven above! / Why Lord do I feel so alone? / Why leave me dark to cry and moan? / Protect my eyes and heart from sin / Let me this day your vict'ry win / Through me let your love be shown / Take my heart's focus off myself / Off food, and warmth, and sex and wealth / Lead my thoughts to things of heaven / Not just things that come in sevens / Bring me to things of spirit health / Give us on Earth the things that help / Protect my lover's soul, Oh Lord / Lead her to live in your accord / Keep her safe from men who're wrong / Have her keep who e'er belongs / Bring thoughts from what she can't afford / Christ Jesus, I thank you! / You've blessed me with love and also life / Forgive the failings of my acts / Lead me on right paths to a wife / Lord Jesus, praise to you!" Unfortunately, by the time I'd finished, the [i]ending[/i] verses that were my whole reason for starting the poem had slipped my mind. Comforting loved it. She was still convinced that we were meant for each other, and took this impromptu poem as a sign. I will admit that she was gradually wearing down my resistance to the idea. As she was serving breakfast, I brought her the box from the basement. She said "I'll tell you about it after work." Light Day's song alternated between upbeat and subdued music; it was like the disparity between light and darkness. The light half sounded like speed metal and the dark half sounded like the blues. This day, I nearly finished cleaning the kitchen floor. I felt that I really didn't have much else to do. I ate and took frequent naps, as with the preceding days. Comforting came home in high spirits; seeing the floor thus cleaned only raised them higher. She picked me up again, this time holding me at eye level instead of putting me somewhere like the table or the top of her head. She said to me "Tasty, I love nothing more than to be in your company; excepting, naturally, that higher relationship which underwrites all others." She yawned, and once again I was treated to a view of her gaping maw; at this scale, I was able to see dripping moisture in there, food wedged between the teeth, and the fact that her teeth were not quite white. "How would you like to go to the movies tonight?" she asked. It looked as though there was some rather specific thing that she wanted to see with me. I said "I'd be happy to. What do you want to see?" She said "It's a chick flick, so you might not care for it; I just didn't want to exclude you." Staring into her radiant yellow eyes, I said "I'll come along, but don't be shocked if I fall asleep." At the theater, she handed me my ticket and excused heself to the restroom. While Comforting was gone, a stranger came to me and said "Who are you?" I answered him with "I'm Tasty. And you?" He chortled and said "My name is Hungry..." and bared his teeth. Once again, I was too frozen with fear to move. He reached down to me, patted me on the head, and walked away. Comforting still gone, a couple approached me. The man looked down at me and said "You waiting for someone, bro?" Nodding, I said "I'm waiting for the girl I came with to be done in there." and indicated the restroom. The woman was about eight inches tall; in my time here I'd almost forgotten that women could be close to my size. She just sat on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. He said "We're here to have a good time. We'll be watching I Wanna Be The Guy: The Movie." They kissed, then she whispered something else to him. It had a rather visible effect on his countenance, and he rushed into the restroom. Comforting came out just as he went in. She placed me atop her head again, then bought a medium pop and small popcorn (about the size of a large french fry at most fast food restaurants in our world). We went to see the movie; I can't remember the name. It was like a strange combination of mockumentary, buddy cop comedy, monster movie, and romance. The audience cheered when the female monster said 'I do' to the by-the-book cop who plays by the rules, and afterwards ate him. Whatever happened to the mouse, I do not know, because the credits rolled at that point. Our entire supper that night was the popcorn; she carried me home in the empty bag. I was asleep by the time we got back, so she had to wake me up so we could brush our teeth. And then go back to sleep. *** Darn it, we still didn't look in the box! My curiosity was so strong that I made sure to get to the subject before eating breakfast. I said "I don't want to eat until I know what's in here." Comforting was ready to oblige, when there was a knock at the door. Placing the box next to me on the table, she walked over to answer it. Something in my spirit began to prickle when I saw it was a man with flowers; I realized I was starting to see Comforting as my mate and forget the other woman. This instinctive defensiveness was also ill-founded, as the man at the door was just delivering flowers that [i]she[/i] had ordered. I calmed myself down, secretly chastising myself for my jealousy. I clasped the tiny crucifix hanging from my belt; this rosary was a good one, and I would not have expected such fine work to come hands larger than my body. Prayer calmed me down better than anything else. I was starting to get hungry, too, and that might have factored into my attitude. Comforting handed me a flower out of the bundle. I had to carefully reach between the thorns of its prickly stem; one of those in my hand could cripple it. It was a rose by another name (Lambraneth, FYI) and was still as overrated. I was still grateful, but I did have the obvious caveat. "I think I'd prefer one without fist-sized thorns jutting out of its stem." Realizing her faux pas, she said "How right you are!" and swapped it for a tulip. Without thinking, I started gnawing on the stem. Dang this animal body, I was functioning on autopilot! I said "Can we see what's in the box now?" She tried to open it, but it was still locked and she couldn't find the key. I tried to pick the lock as I'd done before, but my mind was too fuzzy from lack of food. We decided to just table it for later; I was hungry, and at this point so was she. This morning, comforting fried some eggs. I decided to ask some questions about our dining arrangements. "Why have we eaten so much fruit and grain, but no meat to speak of?" Her answer was "I'm a near-herbivore. I just eat eggs once in a while to plug the gaps in my protein intake." After thinking about this, and the smell of eggs frying, I asked "What about dairy stuff, like cheese and butter?" She said "Some of us mammals make more milk than we need; those that do can sell it to a dairy factory. If we have children that take after you, I'm going to be one of them." Suddenly I found the butter used to grease the pan for the eggs, and for the popcorn at the movies, to be actually pretty gross. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to eat anything with dairy in this world again. Then she said "Just kidding! You'll believe just about anything, won't you? We have animals specifically bred and farmed for that. I'm 97% certain that none of the milk involved comes from sapients." We had a good laugh, and then she sat a plate down on the table with the eggs on it. She said "I like them over-medium, with plenty of runny yolk in the middle. I break it with a wedge of toast, and use said toast to soak it up." This was one coincidence too many. I said "That's exactly how I like eggs and toast. How can we be so like each other?" She just shrugged, handing me a piece of toast and indicated that I go for the food first. The eggs were bigger than those back home, about three times the size of what I'd have been used to were I my normal size. I charged the egg side-on with toast in hand; my bread struck squarely againt the rubbery eggwhite, and it ruptured, spilling yellow egg yolk in a way that could be described evocatively and poetically. I extricated my toast, biting a part soaked and yellow. Yolk covered my body from the thighs down; I probably should have stepped back. "Don't worry," Comforting said, "I'll have you cleaned up in a jiffy." She grabbed me, obliging me to drop my toast, and stuck my legs in her mouth. She licked me clean, then set me back down next to the plate, and nudged my toast toward the place I stood. She said "You taste good, Tasty. Frighteningly good, almost like someone designed your fur and my tongue for enjoyable contact; now I'll have to be careful not to do stuff like this again, or worse." It only took me a few more bites to be full on eggs and toast, most of which I did as she said this. I said in response "I'll have to level with you. I really like the way the inside of your mouth looks; I like when you yawn, or eat, and especially when I brush your teeth. Now I also like how your tongue feels against my fur; I guess we both need to watch out for the temptation of you eating me." Her mouth full of food at the time, she nodded. I just don't have good descriptions of some of the days' music. Heaven Day is one such. As Comforting went off to work, I realized that this might very well be our last full day together. Our lives would be changed forever by our interactions. What if I really was meant for her, and my infatuation with the earlier woman was just misdirected eros? What if I went back home, and there was no possible backup lover for Comforting? In the short term, it would break her heart; in the long term, it would be me selfishly condemning her to a life of loneliness with the full knowledge that [i]there had been someone[/i] and [i]he got away[/i]. Then what if I'd been right before? If I accepted to stay here, might it prove to be an illosionarily good marriage, one founded on all the external things being right? We seemed built for each others' desires and our own in an unearthly manor. I continued pondering these things as I scrubbed the kitchen floor. Running out of that surface, I went after the bathroom floor as well. I didn't want to forget about my first love, but she was starting to slip my mind; I'd seen her face twice, both in photos over the Web. Both images were rapidly fading from my normally-tenacious memory. I remembered the circumstances of my falling for her. I posted a strange story on a web forum; it was like a mix of parody fanfiction, painful poetry, and original fiction. She was the first person to reply to the thread, catching my attention with an avatar of a green dog and the caption 'I'm so happy I could pee.' I wrote more; I was inspired from on high to write a certain name for my author avatar's designated love interest, but chickened out and didn't put the name in. This same name turned out to be hers. I'd been struck with almost every fact I could learn about her as either something we matched on, or something we complemented each other in. She was naturally reluctant to accept the affections of someone she met over the internet on such shaky ground; this reluctance only showed me that she had prudence for me to cherish. ...On The Other Side, I had this situation reversed; there was someone who seemed to like each new thing she learned about me, and no matter what came up she'd take it as a sign we were meant to be. That crayon drawing she'd shown me almost a week ago; that was near photographic evidence, certainly a better chance of being inspired than my thinking of a Biblical patriarch's wife's name for a story and ignoring it. [i]Then[/i] I remembered all the other couples I'd seen; most of the bings had certain color markings on their feathers, fur, or scales, these colors being inverted on their mates. Maybe I only matched the picture perfectly because [i]any[/i] suitable mate would. Who's to say I was the only brown guy with black ears, black paws, white belly, and a white mask? This was getting too heavy for me. I went to sleep. I was awakened when I heard a noise. There was some sort of black beast that I could see through a window. It ran off when I spotted it. Whatever else it was, it was quadrupedal and jet-black. When it ran away, I went back to sleep. I was awakend by the same noise; I looked at the window from before and saw nothing. I looked at the window next to the door and saw it again; once again it ran off. Having some familiarity with fairy tales, I knew better than to expect it not to do whatever harmful thing it seemed to intend on the third try. So I kept myself awake and vigilant, holding my rosary in my left hand and praying with it until Comforting came home. She was greatly troubled when I explained what had happened to her. She said it should have no power to get into her home, the walls inside and out being blessed; still it put a damper on her mood. Holding onto her hand and shivering, I asked "What was that thing?" She said "It's a shadow beast; it seeks out dark thoughts to consume, leaving a its victim an optimist." To be an optimist; to call situations good no matter how bad they really are, to call people good however evil the became, this mad philosophy was deceitful and dangerous. Why, it was even worse than pessimism! I clung to Comforting for the rest of the day. I was praying constantly, and would never leave her sight; as much as I could, I also stayed within arm's reach. It really pained me to remind her that we still weren't mates, and so I still had to sleep in the bathroom. We went to sleep. *** I awoke with extra cheer. I found that Comforting had not yet awakened, and so took upon myself the monumental task of awakening her gently. It shamed me that the first three options to come to mind were all perverted, and likely to leave me injured to boot. I had come to want her, but it was still a shameful thing to want her that way. I started fiddling with the hair in her right ear. It twitched, but lacked the kind of mass needed to shove me anywhere. I whispered to her, "It's time to get up, Comforting." She yawned. Her eyes slowly slid open, then she turned to me. Her yellow irises and sclera looked to me like some poetic yellow thing. She said drowsily "It's Sabbath. I can take my time if I feel like it; this is my sacred day of rest and reflection." I said "I'm in no great hurry, I'm just feeling full of life." She pulled off her blanket and let me climb all over her; I no longer had to make conscious efforts to avert my gaze from those places I considered sacred. We carried on conversation as she took her time getting up. At one point I said "You read like a checklist of the things I've come to desire in a woman. The only thing missing is that you aren't blue or green." She laughed, knocking me off my feet. She said "You ought to see my winter coat! When autumn wraps up and the season for snow arrives, I grow long, cyan fur in place of my usual brown." I stared at her in amazement. "You're not pulling my leg again, are you?" She said "No, for serious. And yours will probably be a warm red, since that's the opposing hue. Not that a winter coat will be much help to a beasty as small as you." This tilted me further towards wishing to stay; I wanted to see what these pelts would look like, if nothing else. She sat up and picked me up; she held me by the tail, wich logically should have hurt like the dickens because it meant my whole body weight being supported by my spine. I then recalled that I was very strong for my size, and built as a different sort of animal from a human or a mouse. I figured this was cute, anyway. Once we were down the stairs, she put me atop her head while she prepared breakfast. This was the biggest and nicest breakfast of the week. She said "This is either our first day as mates or our last day with each other; either way it ought to be as special as we can make it." I nodded in affirmation, but realizing that she wouldn't be able to see that said "Yes, either way." She said "I love how hesitant you are. This kind of restraint demonstrates prudence and only make you seem like a better mate." Another time she used one of my very own statements on me! I said "You're near-perfectly everything I've wanted, ever. This is part of the reason I think you might not be good for me; how would I be growing and maturing as a person to give in to the nigh-perfect woman who is everything I want and wants me the way I am?" This made her pause. I felt like I struck something deep, and it was hurting my heart as well as hers. She said at last "You're right! I haven't been demanding of you hardly at all; what little you've done has been for your own pleasure or out of your own sense of duty. Why, I should have had you serenading me, cleaning my toenails, scrubbing hard-to-reach places, and things of that order." She handed me the floor toothbrush, filled a cup with soap and water, and placed me on the bathroom floor saying "Finish up in here while I finish making breakfast." As I saw it, Bird Day was probably my Sabbath anyway. All I really did on it was explore the basement, and that was definitely a fun thing I did at my leisure. I started to hear the Forest's Song again, and having now heard the anthems of the rest of the week was able to pick out a sense of growth coming from the melody. I finished cleaning, we ate breakfast, and then she stared longingly into my eyes. Comforting was taken with me, and I had certainly grown quite fond of her. She said "We'll go to Church again this afternoon, but first we should play some games and take a bath." For games, first we played hide-and-seek twice; both times the hider won. Next she showed me a simple videogame online, and I would have been really good at it if the controller were not several times the size of my body. For the bath, she decided to cover me with soap to scrub her body; I won't say I didn't object. The soap got in my eyes, and water in my nose; still, it was as satisfying as a hard hour's work rather than disturbing or terrifying. When she was done I said "If you change one thing about yourself, Comforting, don't use a person as a scrubby again. It was as painful for me as it was ineffective for you." She said "Okay, I won't do it any more. I just wanted to know if it would work." I checked with her to see if she still heard the Forest's Song; since she could still hum and whistle it, I took her as innocent. Maybe I shouldn't have doubted her intentions, but I could still hear the song so my doubt wasn't sinful either. If only knowing when you were wrong was this easy back home... In a world filled with holy song all day, there was no eerie silence; there was, on the other paw, still awkward silence. We didn't say anything to each other while we dried off. I broke the ice, saying "I love you, Comforting. The thing is, I love you as a friend and am still hung up on the girl back home. I need to either get over her or cut you loose; we won't be a healthy couple unless I do." Once again, my lack of empathy hurt someone; she immediately broke down crying. If only I had some sort of ability to sense when something would hurt someone's feelings stuff like this could occasionally be avoided! I tried to console her, but I think this mightappy, but I don't think you'll be happiest with me. If I can't get the other girl out of my head, I can't love you as you ought to be loved." She was on her hands and knees. I climbed onto one of these hands and started stroking her soft, smooth fur. She was eventually able to stop crying. She put me on the floor, then stood up and loomed over me. She said "Are you entirely certain that you're willing to give up..." she gestured to incicate the house, the world outside, and finally her own body, "...all of this?" Her body interested me more than everything else. The world was just ours with BGM and a palette swap; the house and its furnishings were just like ours, only scaled up from my perspective; her [i]body[/i], now, that was something special. She was about five-foot-three, weighing roughly a hundred and forty pounds, with all sorts of features I'd wished terrestrial women had; fur, a muzzle, pointed ears on top of her head, and a tail. She had that dark mask like a raccoon, and yellow eyes. Even more magnificent was the soul that controlled this body. She was a kind, gentle, generous person with a good sense of humor. She had only enough flaws that I wouldn't consider my presence in her life to be an inherent spiritual corruption, though maybe I would be a bad influence. I said "I'm afraid I must. I would love few things more than to stay with you until the end of my days, but I really do not belong to this world." I started crying myself, because I knew I'd be giving up the world; a world that was written to match what I found beautiful, with enough problems in it (the shadow beast, avians) for me to suspend disbelief. Disdraught, she said picked me up and said "Okay, Tasty. Though it breaks my heart to do this, I'm going to have to let you go." She carried me to the distant church. Along the way, we held conversation; the more we talked, the stronger the part of me that wanted to stay became. The more I wanted to stay, the more the conviction that it was my duty to leave pained me. I wound up sleeping most of the way there; a broken heart will do that to a guy. From lack of first- or second-hand experience, I'll just assume it works like that for the ladies as well. This time the dragon didn't ask us any questions, he just flew up and rang the bell when he saw us. Jesus said "Why are you here?" I said "I wish to return to Earth. I don't think it's right for me to marry one woman while still fawning over another. I want my first love to reject me and break my heart before I look for someone new." "So," He said, "because someone else is failing to break your heart, you will break your sister's?" Painfully, I nodded. He called in another servant; it was Harvest again. The Son said "It takes a very fine blade to sever the kind of ties you two have grown over the past week without being lethal." The spectral scythe passed through us, and we fell over writhing in pain. Comforting dropped me on the cold tiles as she fell; I'm sorta glad her hands didn't clench tighter from the pain instead. Dismissing the Harvester, Christ said "You may return any time. The way back is through Comforting's stomach; be warned, however, that there is no guarantee that you can get back here again, much less that she won't have married Plan B in the mean time." Comforting and I looked at one another. She opened her mouth wide, and I received my final view of her maw; I know not why I liked it, only that I did. As I got up and started walking towards her face, Jesus said "Not like that; you'd only wind up in the latrine that way." He waved his hand across her belly and a pulsating blue hole with light streaming out of it appeared flush against her skin. She was as shocked as I was. I said to her, "Fare thee well, Comforting. I would be a fool to forget what I've learned under your roof. God bless you, and may we both find love." During my passage back here, I felt my body growing back into that of a human. The process was physically painful, but I barely noticed after all the emotional pain I'd jut put myself through. My head was assailed with possible ways that our life together could have gone if I'd given in and married her from any point during my stay there. [quote]I jumped from her knee and slammed her dead-center in the chest; I know not if I was temporarily gifted with the strength of a full-sized man or if she simply rolled with the blow to make me feel dominant, but I now had her lying on her back...[/quote] [quote]We both loved me sitting in her mouth, apparently. I was terrified when one time she accidentally swallowed me![/quote] [quote]Comforting smiled at me and clapped her hands. "Red really [i]is[/i] your color!"[/quote] [quote]It was okay, though. It turns out I was immune to acid.[/quote] [quote]She held me in her hands, right next to her heart, and we slept together.[/quote] [quote]I found that I'd mysteriously grown an inch taller. I was stronger, but more awkward; for comparison, imagine if you woke up one day and found yourself two feet taller. That's the kind of difference I'm talking about.[/quote] [quote]The mustard tingled, her tongue tickled.[/quote] [quote]Our children were small-scale like I was, but they seemed to have made up for it in numbers. Maybe it was good that she was only be fertile from February 11-15, in that case; we'd wait until these ones were old enough to help with changing diapers and whatnot before making another litter.[/quote] [quote]This is something no father should ever have been required to confirm but yes, my children were all also acidproof.[/quote] Did I make the right choice? What do you think? ... [u]I still never found out what was in that box![/u]