i am once again thinking about the body horror of a tiny and giant merging into one entity. like if their heights averaged out, how horrifying would that be? everything is suddenly so much smaller and larger than it used to be. they’re stronger and weaker, but it doesn’t really matter, because it’s not like they can interact with anything on a familiar scale anyway. they can’t uproot trees but they can’t cradle acorns in their arms. nothing is the same. and they aren’t the same. they’re someone who is composed of unreconcilable differences, and there is nothing familiar enough to provide any comfort. their old favorite blanket is the size of a tissue. their former giant home is an unrecognizably gargantuan cavern. their old tiny friends fear them. their old giant friends can barely see them.
everything is too big and too small.
they are too big and too small.
