Jim was in heaven. He was almost too small to be seen, and he had managed to shrink down right next to a sandwich the size of a city block. He had cut it pretty close, too, as just then Mrs. Smith walked into the kitchen.
She walked up to the counter in all her glory, and Jim admired her beauty as he peeked from around the corner of the sandwich. She was wearing her nurses uniform and her hair was wet and dangling. To Jim, Mrs. Smith seemed to be a thousand feet tall. Suddenly Jim saw a giant hand reaching towards him. Jim rushed to the sandwich and clung to the plastic wrap as it was lifted into the air and placed into a brown lunch bag.
It was dark inside the sack and Jim looked high up into the air towards the bag's opening. Soon the spoon and pudding carton were placed in the bag, and Jim had to pray that he wouldn't be smashed by the incoming items. The bag closed and Jim was immersed in darkness. He then felt the bag jostle and bounce as Mrs. Smith carried it to the car. It was an overwhelming feeling knowing that he was now part of Mrs. Smith's lunch bag, something so insignificant that she would barely even think about it over the next few hours, and even compared to the lunch bag he was basically nothing.
Now Jim just had to sit next to the giant ham sandwich and wait until Mrs. Smith would eat her lunch that hopefully Jim would be part of.