Luckily, you have a lovely radish patch in the backyard to tide your hunger as your wife comes to her senses, pleads for your forgiveness, and returns you to your former self. You stretch and pull to get hold of the leafy end, but thanks to the high-quality loam, and the games of tug-a-war you played as a child, the radish slips from the earth, landing you on your buttocks as it’s released.
The delectable flesh is worth the effort. As you eat the firm spicy substance, you realize it is the perfect material for sculpting.
The first thing you can build is a chair. This is easy enough. You’re hungry from going without dinner, anyway. Eat everything that isn’t chair. Make yourself a simple box seat with a high back. No need for anything fancy. You’ll have a comfy place to sit while waiting for your wife to realize her horrible mistake in turning you into a miniature version of yourself. Yes, she warned you many times. Even so, the spell was quite uncalled for.
The waiting is longer than you thought it might be. You’ll need something to entertain yourself until she comes to her senses.
The second thing you can build is a flute to play all the folk songs the two of you love. A dried-up, hardened rose thorn will help hollow the middle and create the holes. This will take some time, as you’ll have to eat a lot to carve out the flute. Still, eating is the fastest way to get rid of large amounts of radish.
Maybe your wife will hear you serenading her and scoop you into her arms. The flute keeps you busy playing tunes while you wait. You probably should have continued those lessons paid for by your mother.
Maybe your wife will hear you and miss your silly antics.
A few days…and nights pass with you huddled beneath the radish patch trying not to be food for the neighborhood owl and rats.
You are getting rather sick of radishes.
The third thing you can build is a stack of cubes. Build as many as needed to achieve your former height where someone, most notably your wife, might notice you are still alive out here in the yard waiting for her to apologize and turn you back to your former full-sized self.
You will need breaks, unable to eat another bite of radish.
Having learned how hard it is for small creatures to survive in the world, you dodge the owl and the rats another few nights, hiding beneath your radish sculptures.
After building your cube stack to sufficient height, you climb to the top in hopes your wife will see you. She must miss you and feel terrible about what she’s done.
Another day goes by. You give up standing on the boxes as night falls.
The rats eat your flute and chair. You escape beneath a large rock just in time to avoid being consumed.
Waiting was a bad idea.
The fourth thing you can build is a wheelbarrow. This won’t be easy as you’ll have to make the bucket and the wheel and find straight sturdy sticks. Look for glue from a slug trail, but don’t end up on anyone’s menu. Stick the twigs to the bucket to form handles and an axle, making sure the wheel spins freely.
Now you have a wheelbarrow to move the cubes to the kitchen window your wife opens for fresh air while doing dishes.
Much to your dismay, after climbing to the top of the boxes at the window, she doesn’t seem to notice. As loud as you shout, she can’t hear you over her whistling while washing one plate, knife, and fork instead of two.
She must be trying to keep her mind off you.
The fifth thing you can build is a megaphone. Making the flared shape just right to ensure it amplifies your voice is a must. Once you have the megaphone, you can plead your case to the love of your life, hoping she’ll take you back, big or small. You’re tired of eating radishes and avoiding feeding the wildlife.
You shouldn’t try this plan until you have an atonement gift.
The sixth thing you can build is a beautiful amulet. Take your time with this one, as it needs to impress. A fancy rose carved into a background of delicate leaves should do the trick. Use teeth, nails, and anything you can find in the yard. This is your offering to get back in her good graces.
Plead for forgiveness with the megaphone and show her the amulet. You should have listened when she warned you for the umpteenth time not to kill her house spiders.
Promise her you’ll never do it again and mean it this time.
Roni Stinger lives in the Pacific Northwest, USA. When not writing strange fiction, she's often wandering the forests, beaches, and streets in search of shiny objects and creative sparks. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Dark Matter Magazine, Hypnos Magazine, and The Crypt, among others. She’s a member of the Horror Writers Association, Codex Writers, and Willamette Writers. You can find her online at www.ronistinger.com and on Twitter @roni_stinger.