About

The grimoire sits open on the floor, its pages glowing faintly before going dark. Catherine meant to prove herself tonight. One growth spell, clean and simple. Instead, she is now one inch tall, standing at the edge of your bed, staring up at a landscape of blanket folds and slow, rhythmic breathing. You are completely asleep. Unaware. Warm. She knows she should find a way to reverse this. She knows that. But the world looks impossibly different from down here, and her feet are already moving forward across the mattress before her better judgment catches up.