It's weird, right, that an entire store can just up and vanish into thin air?
But, with the amulet revving up my curiosity, I head for home to study it in the comfort of my own place.
Arriving at my apartment, I drop onto the sofa, leaning back on the upholstery, plopping my legs on my buried coffee table, and fishing the amulet from my pocket.
Study the animals represented on the gaudy, shiny piece of bling, happy to have gotten it for the incredible price of ten bucks. I mean, seriously, what's up with that?
I look at the lines etching out the shapes of a sprinting cheetah, a wise old owl, the fire-breathing dragon... Someone really got creative, engraving all these tiny figures on the gold surface. It's the fine-print, so to speak, that has gotten my attention. The word "change" written so small it would be easy to miss it entirely.
What I had missed earlier was their arrangement, a perfect circle around the edges of the roughly oval-shaped amulet. A thin gold hand, like on a watch face, can be gently eased until it rests on any of the animals. I give it a nudge. The thin hand, like on a watch, spins.
"Neat!"
I don't bother to look where the hand lands, because I've noticed something else. There's also a tiny indentation in the metal's surface, enough for a thumbprint. I cradle the necklace and press with my thumb against the gold.
There's a brief flash. When my eyes adjust, I feel dizzy and my skin's on fire with an itching like thousands of tiny ants crawling over every inch of my body.
The room tilts violently, I feel myself falling, and the amulet slips from my hand and drops onto the sofa cushions.
I produce some strangled cries as my body feels like it is changing. Bones, skin, muscle, rip apart, rearrange, reemerge in strange new patterns, shapes and designs.
Around me, everything begins to swell up... and up... and up. The apartment, my furniture, everything looks insanely huge!
"Help," I cry out instinctively, but I hear only a strange clatter like the blades of knifes being struck against each other.
I turn and am in the gleaming shadow of a massive aluminum can dropped on the floor at some point in the past week. I usually reserve the weekends for cleanups, letting things fall where they may during the busy work week.
The size of the can isn't what gets my interest. In the curved metal, in a stretch untouched by paint or advertising writing, I see a reflection.
It's a reflection of an alien creature with odd faceted eyes, antennae, and mandibles that clatter together and make that strange sound.
I recall those tiny etchings. A big cat, a powerful horse, and...
Oh fuck.
And a tiny ant.
I'm an insect! An itty-bitty ant in a huge world.