The Playthings of God (pt8)

Natie realized she was moving again. Her stomach churned, but she only bit her lower lip until she stopped moving. She realized she was on some other smooth surface, brown and wooden maybe, with the Giant nearby. Natie could finally breathe normally again, wiping her face. As she did so, she let go of the branch and what was left of the tree, tumbling to the surface alone with nothing else between her and the strange world she saw around her.

Tears streaming freely, Natie looked around her again. It really could be like a distorted house, the proper size for the bearer of the Hands. The Giant was dipping its hands into a glass box. That box was as big as the world, as far as Natie was concerned.

But the world was bigger than that, because the glass box fit perfectly on the cabinet. Which is what it had to be. She was worlds away from it, but she could see it. Like if she was seeing the sun. Which she could see now, hanging by cords thicker than all the woods wound together, shining down into the box.

Home, in that box. It reminded her of keeping a frog, except so much larger. So much larger. So much larger. So much-

Natie cried into her hands, until the Giant used something that could have blotted out that electric sun over her entire village to sweep her onto a new tree, which she clung to. Then she moved yet again, way too fast. Maybe she threw up, but her mouth tasted terrible either way. Forcing her eyes open, she looked straight up into the face of their God.

At first she couldn’t process it, because it was so large. When she could finally take it all in, when she put together everything she could see, it came to her.

It looked just like them.

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