Tricia enjoyed herself for the next half-hour as she cooked a stack of pancakes. Her diminished eye line made the kitchen feel askew, almost like it was a different place. When she went to reach for a plate in the cupboard over the stove, she had to reach higher than she used to. She couldn't even see them from her lower angle. Her sleeve slipped down to her elbow as she reached, which was certainly unexpected considering how tight the fabric should have been.
Once the pancakes were made, she sat down to eat and realized the table was several inches higher. It was higher still when she finished about twenty minutes later. After cleaning up, she picked up the magazine she had been reading and walked back upstairs to her room. Her sweatpants' elastic bottoms no longer secured themselves around her ankles, and at several steps along the way they rode down to her heels. She walked into her room, treading with her heels on top of the pant cuffs. She stood in front of the mirror once again to check out her changes.
Her shirt's collar looked very stretched out. Her right sleeve completely covered her hand and her left would have done so as well if it weren't bunched by the magazine she was holding. She figured she had lost another three or four inches, doubling the effects of her previous shrink.
Still, however, she felt like she needed another change, as long as it didn't affect how her height was dropping.