Whenever I'm feeling upset or depressed, or any other number of things, I like to write. I shouldn't say "like to," I just do. It helps me get my head straight, sort things out. I just wrote this one, and now hopefully I can get to sleep.

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I'm two inches tall and there's a black leather boot about to step on me. I can't move, I'm frozen in terror. I look in every direction, unable to turn my head. My eyes see nothing but vacancy in every direction. Slowly, the crushing foot is coming towards me. I want to scream but I don't because my mind is saying it won't accomplish anything. I finally muster up the courage to at least shout, and as the ever so loud exclamation of "fuck off" leaves my mouth, the boot begins to retract itself as if the owner wearing it is toppling over backwards at the sound of my voice. I grow taller and taller as she falls back, her body hitting the floor with what would have been a great loud thud if I were still a mere few inches. But I've grown, grown to the clouds, my head so high up in the clouds I can barely see her. But I can still see her, and I look at her with an intensity even I've never witnessed in a mirror. My eyes turn to razor blades, and like the sun through a magnifying glass I evaporate her from this plane of existence, leaving not a single trace behind. I don't smile. I simply find myself now 5'11", in a crowd of people all moving about their business, living their lives like any other day. I start to walk forward, and soon become lost in the crowd, one more person going about his business, continuing where he left off and living to the best of his abilities. I remind myself, just before I disappear completely, that I won't ever let myself be tread upon ever again.