The curious feeling of falling while standing suddenly griiinds to a halt, like an elevator coming to an abrupt stop. It happens so quickly your knees buckle beneath you and you collapse to the ground.
Lying on your back, you feel your skin and muscles pulling at you curiously. You can't explain the feeling, but it's as if something inside you is trying to pull your body into itself. The pulling becomes a throb that sends convulsive shivers through you, like an old car engine trying to start.
Movement is difficult, but with some effort you manage to raise your hand up to your face. Sure enough, the fog is still there, encircling your arm like plumes of cigarette smoke. It moves slowly, then quickly. It strikes you that the fog seems to be looking for anything else to shrink.
You lie there for a moment and the tremors lessen. You then roll over on your side and onto your knees.
You are in the midst of a vast plain, a plain that looks like the surface of Mars or some strange planet. White chunks of detritus dot the landscape. Crevasses, potholes, and little hills are the only scenery for miles and miles. There, in the distance, almost too far to focus on, is the sofa mountain range you saw earlier.
"I've stopped shrinking," you think. It suddenly hits you that at this size, whatever size that IS, exactly, you should be dead!
"But...I'm still alive!"
You look at your naked body and see the plumes of fog continue to slowly circle your limbs, for some reason unable to continue in their sole purpose of shrinking you to infinity. The ominous fog somehow makes you feel warm, full of energy.
"This is insane," you think. "I've got to do SOMETHING. But... at least I've stopped shrinking...or have I?"