Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabble 4

Written: 2019

Tinies. You weren't really supposed to acknowledge them much. It made them nervous. So in general, us big folk did our best not to acknowledge but not to accidentally step on them either. They buzzed about the world happy with interacting in it but being separate from it. There were different types who different things. Entire subgroup existed depending on where they had made their home. Office tinies who flew around delivering messages, refilling paper clip boxes and other small unimportant things that needed doing nonetheless.

The ones in my apartment changed light bulbs and messed about with the TV system until it worked like a charm. One time they tried hovering, the ensuing mess was one that had me buying anti-tiny locks for the cupboard to stop them getting the big things out. They sulked about that and my morning coffee hadn't tasted right for days. It was a delicate balance in the world but one that mostly worked.

Until one fell and broke its leg, causing it to scream like a banshee. Not that I blamed him. He was a bit of a strange little fellow. He was young, I'd caught glimpses of the others trying to teach him how to hide from sight and do the chores which they had decided was theirs. Only the young one wasn't really much for hiding. I dutifully ignored him as he clambered over the TV screen wiping it down with a cloth. I ignored the cold draft of wind as he opened the window to air the apartment. I ignored the fact there were laundry powered footprints along the kitchen counters. I also dutifully ignored the elder yelling at him in their language for getting in my way.

I couldn't quite ignore the screaming of pain, however. Best I could tell, the youngster had been trying to climb the curtain and had slipped halfway, plummeting to the ground and slamming his leg against the desk on the way down.

"Right," I murmured, looking down at the hurt creature, its friends not coming out to help him. I'd left it alone for a while but none of them came. Frowning, I scooped him up as best I could and looked up what to do with an injured tiny who wasn't getting help from his fellows. It's screams had dimmed slightly but it was still awake, moaning unhappily. Strong little arms went around my thumb and tiny but sharp teeth bit down. Luckily I had enough foresight to not shake the little bugger off.

"Hello," I said through gritted teeth over the phone to a clinic that apparently specialized in this kind of event. "One of my tinies seems to have broken his leg."

-x-

He was not happy with leaving the apartment but then again, he was in too much pain to fight back. My thumb was covered in bites as the tiny seemed to enjoy biting me. He didn't like it when I put him down, refusing to let go of my thumb. Eventually, he let go and I managed to get my coat on. Transporting him was more difficult. In the end, I put him gently in my coat pocket and did my best not to tilt the material too much. There was a lot of yelling in the process but the moment my fingers got close to the pocket, it had wrapped itself around them and forced my hand in too, leaving me to navigate my way one-handed on public transport.

It was good enough not to bite me along the way, though it kept a very solid grip on my fingers. It was a rather awkward way to have my hand but any movement had it complaining again and people started keeping me strange looks. People who treated tinies like pets or humans weren't exactly well thought off. 

"He's a pretty one," the lady at reception cooed, though she had enough sense not to poke at him. That might have been from the dark glare my tiny gave rather than inclination. She certainly looked like the type to enjoy petting tinies not to mention she was working in a Tiny clinic. "Dr Turgin will be free in a moment," she said cheerfully. "Do you know this one's name?" she asked, typing away at the computer with her manicured nails adding to the tapping noise.

"I'm not sure," I hummed, looking down at the tiny in my hand. It had made itself comfortable in the palm of my hand and wasn't happy with the extra attention. "He's from my apartment, I've never seen them type so I don't know if he can tell me," I added with a slight blush. Tinies couldn't speak human but they could understand us just fine. And type on keyboard fairly well. The office tinies had little name tags on for when they were seen. Domestic types were harder to know.

It warbled slightly, both me and it jumping slightly as another tiny appeared from nowhere, landing next to my hand with enthusiasm. The lady beamed, watching as the tiny introduced itself and chattered to my one. My tiny gripped my thumb tighter. Apparently this tiny was giving him the same feeling the receptionist was giving me.

"Don't worry, most people don't. Lily will find out," she explained, with an excited air. "One of our residents here. She likes the flowers outside. Once when she was still a foal she got covered in lily pollen so we call her Lily. Made a real mess," she laughed, too happy for me.

"Ok," I said slowly, not sure I needed to know that. If I called my tiny one the things had gotten himself covered in, laundry would be his name. If I wanted to flirt, I'd say that. I didn't want to flirt. I wanted to get my tiny fixed up. The lady seemed to get I didn't exactly want to talk about tinies and deflated slightly. My tiny finished chatting with the so-named Lily and I watched as the tiny danced over to a small keyboard, clearly for her use.

"Oh," the receptionist hummed, "That's a sweet name. Pipsqueak,"  she smiled looking at my tiny directly again. Pipsqueak shrunk in slightly, not enjoyed the attention. "Pip," she added.

"Seems more like a Squeak," I mused as Squeak glared at the name Pip. He looked up at my warily but nodded strongly. That was all I needed. Squeak it was.

Future plan: An attempt at first person. MC looks after Squeak and the story would mostly be fun stories of interacting with tinies and get a lot of dirty looks for doing so.