For the tiny inhabitants of Miniopolis, size matters...
"You look a bit...parched." Lisa playfully grins while handing her man the rapidly-warming refreshment.
"Ah, you always know just what I need." Kurt reaches for the glass with a sun-burnt arm. "What would I do without my water girl?"
"I don't know," she quips with a smirk, "and don't call me that." The suburban couple both giggle in the heat, scanning the lush landscape of their backyard.
After gulping the water in what surely must be record time, Kurt begins to inquire about the evening plans. "So what do you --"
Lisa interrupts, grabbing her hubby's arm. "Wait a minute. Do you hear that? Listen."
He lowers his moist eyebrows in confusion. "Hear what, honey? I don't --"
Lisa quickly places her finger on his lips to induce silence. She is not a librarian, but she plays one in this moment.
Kurt amusingly watches his beloved as she tip-toes around the yard, searching for the source of whatever she hears. Her investigation ultimately leads to the patch of grass behind the parked mower. She bends down on all fours.
A voice speaks from above.
"Watch out for the ants, honey." Kurt is now standing over her, trying his darnedest to pick up the sound waves. So far? Nothing. "What is it? I mean, what kind of sound is it?"
Lisa raises her head and looks up at Kurt. Those eyes. Bright, blue and beautiful. They were the first feature he noticed about her, way back in the day. He composed a poem about them while they were dating. Not exactly a literary gem, but still. And these years later, they still mesmerize him.
On this occasion, however, they reflect something other than sentimental affection. They are saturated with confusion. "You mean, you still don't hear it?"
Kurt slowly shakes his head in the negative. "Sweetheart, you know that my hearing ain't the greatest. And I just climbed off that roaring machine there. My ears haven't fully recovered yet."
Lisa reaches up for a helping hand. "That is really weird," she says on the way up. "It sounds like...almost like...tiny voices screaming out for help." The incredulous expression on her analytical partner's sweaty face doesn't go unnoticed. "I know how ridiculous that sounds," she acknowledges. She can all but read Kurt's thought: Do you? She continues. "I wish I could at least figure out where exactly it's coming from."
Perceiving her exasperation, Kurt places a consoling hand on her back. "Well honey, sometimes the great outdoors can be a very mysterious place." A few moments of awkward silence dissipate into the sunshine. "As I'm sure you'll agree, I'm in desperate need of a shower. See you in a bit."
Lisa stares at the ground with a mixture of curiosity and consternation. Kurt proceeds to return the mower to the shed.
Meanwhile, in a land not too far away, a different version of reality has unfolded...
TERROR FROM ABOVE
It's a dark day. The usually-bustling city has come to a dramatic and tragic halt. It is a horrific scene. Devastation everywhere. Destruction all around. Chaos on every corner.
What has happened here? What could have wreaked such nightmarish havoc? For the answer, let us take a few short steps back in time...
EARLIER IN THE DAY
The city park, hosting a birthday party, is packed with happy children and filled with their playful squeals and laughter. Two mothers are discussing the usual: work issues, school concerns, church functions and whatnot. Suddenly, the casual conversation takes a decidedly alarming turn.
"Did you hear that? Is that thunder?"
"I really don't think so. Thunder doesn't continuously roar like that."
"Well, what is it? Where is it coming from?"
"Listen! It's getting louder. It must be getting nearer."
"It sounds like it's coming from behind that hill over there."
"Oh...my...God!"
In this moment, the air space is horrifyingly violated by monstrous, screaming blades of a metal vortex. The tops of gleaming skyscrapers are chopped off like locks of hair at a barbershop. Terrorized citizens run for their lives. The deafening howl of the rampaging invader drowns out the blood-curdling screams of the people.
In one hellish instant, the radiant sunshine of a glorious day becomes a massive shadow as the growling giant rolls overhead. Day becomes night. Light becomes darkness. Gargantuan wheels tear through the landscape of the once-beautiful city, leaving deep canyons in their wake. Decades of extensive and expensive construction projects undone in a matter of minutes. Gone -- just like that.
YOU ARE HERE
"Welcome" to the itty-bitty city of Miniopolis. It's unfortunate that you couldn't visit on a happier day. This place is very much like the geographical location you call home. The only difference is one of scale.
Theoretically, you could hold the tiny city of Miniopolis in the palm of one hand, with plenty of room to spare. Lisa Millican failed to see it because, though trained as a security professional, her eyes were unable to perceive the scene at such a miniature scale. It's a small world, after all.
As it happens, the itty-bitty city of Miniopolis isn't a stand-alone phenomenon. True, it is the focus of our story. But the reality is that there are many millions of these diminutive civilizations spread across this big blue rock. You will never eye them on any map. Real estate, as we understand it up here, is not really an issue. They don't require much space. It's a small world, after all.
GOOD NEWS
Don't worry about the victimized Miniopolians. Feel compassion, yes. But they will recover. For, you see, they are master builders and master rebuilders. It's a forced mastery - developed from having to live each and every minute under the feet of giants.
Does size matter? Ask the tiny inhabitants of itty-bitty Miniopolis. If you can spot them, that is. Just be careful to not squash them.
It's a small world, after all.
What happens when a miniature UFO visits a coffee shop?
🌟 🌟 🌟
Meet Zask and Zisk,
See them venture forth --
They know little
About the destination,
Only that it's an energy station
On a big blue world
Known to locals as Earth.
"Look at that!"
Exclaims Zask,
"We are in luck --
This structure must be a gateway
To the stars in exchange for bucks."
The transparent portal opens
And the two cautiously fly through
Into an aromatic atmosphere,
Wondering what's about to brew.
"Here's an interesting tidbit,"
Offers Zask to Zisk,
"Our ships are called 'flying saucers'
Here on this oversized planet."
To which Zisk sarcastically replies,
"Well that's just ridiculously awesome,
Now would you please just can it?"
"I know the ride's been bumpy
But must you be so grumpy?"
Asks Zask to Zisk
From an elongated throat
Beginning to feel quite lumpy.
Between the text-backs and paperbacks
And the tap-taps and chit-chat,
Zisk and Zask hover undetected
Over these life forms so distracted.
"Home Base! Home Base!
Calling Home Base --
Why have you sent us
To this odd and noisy place?"
Tho' transmitted far from nigh,
Quickly comes back the reply:
"Navigator Zisk and Navigator Zask,
Yours is a mission of deduction
With a reconnaissance function --
So focus on the task
And await further instructions."
Zisk points out a place to land
On a wide strip of land,
Making sure Zask understands
To watch for the jittery giant hands.
"Tsk! Tsk! I know this, Zisk!
I'm not exactly new at this."
So without ado,
Boom or pop,
The scaled-down craft
Lands on the countertop.
There the saucer rests
Without drawing attention --
An inconspicuous arrival
From an alien dimension.
Meanwhile within the cockpit,
Zask and Zisk sit and wait
As they observe the human chatter
And clatter of cups and plates.
Suddenly and abruptly,
A bogey descends with a crash
On top of Zisk and Zask --
"We are under attack!"
Yells Zisk to Zask;
"Don't you think I know that?"
To Zisk yells back Zask,
"What in this world is that?"
Then into the chaos,
From a place deep in Space,
An urgent message reverberates
From the bowels of Home Base:
"RED ALERT! RED ALERT!
We tell you the truth --
A hot handled hostile
Has come down on your roof,
So ascend and abort!"
The trendy human specimens
Stare in utter disbelief
As the latte levitates
With the rising saucer underneath.
Up goes the mug
On one unsteady ride,
Splashing its frothy contents
Over its ceramic sides.
After the saucer zips away
Into the light of day,
Zask and Zisk let out sighs
And in unison the duo say:
"So that's why they call this
The Milky Way!"
Back home in the domain
Of their otherworldly plane,
Zisk and Zask feel disdain
As they strain to explain
Why and how their saucer
Now has a giant coffee stain.
A failure discovers the "magic" of the small --
from a miniature genie...
🔥 🔥 🔥
Have you heard the skinny on Lenny Mangini?
This fellow dreamed of a yellow Lamborghini
And the good life of more, much and plenty,
But Lenny's pockets lacked any profits or pennies.
Plagued by malaise and chronic sickness,
Two failed marriages and a bankrupt business.
Always on the lookout for a bargain,
Lenny liked to visit the flea market.
He bought himself a like-new parka.
One day he felt something in the pocket.
Inside he discovered a shiny golden object -
A special lighter with, let's say, a special effect.
Lenny made an attempt to ignite it,
But only sparks - Lenny couldn't light it.
"Just my luck," he said, "the thing is a dud."
So he chucked it into the trash with a thud.
"Wait a minute," he thought, "it's made of gold.
How much moolah for me if the thing is sold?"
Then the wastebasket began to shake and gyrate,
As the lighter within began to buzz and vibrate.
Suddenly the thing is flying toward his head.
Fortunately Lenny catches it instead.
His nervous hands struggled to hold it.
Still he felt compelled to give it a flick.
Up came the flame - exceptionally warm.
Somehow and someway - it morphed into a form.
"What in the world?," asked an upended Lenny
As he stared and glared at a bona fide genie.
You know, like Aladdin or I Dream of Jeannie -
Only this genie was teeny like a mini Houdini.
But before Lenny can make any wishes,
This apparition drops some serious wisdom:
"Would you believe I received this gig
To do away with the myth of the big?
Not all genies live in bottles and lamps.
I can help you, Lenny, become a champ.
I realize you're surprised by my size,
But it really doesn't count.
All your wishes can be granted -
No matter the amount.
The joy you can enjoy is unlimited,
Flowing and ongoing to ad infinitum,
If you can only grasp the definitive
Impact of the small and diminutive.
It is a shame and a pity
That all over this city,
People tend to miss the
Power of the itty-bitty.
It would be truly tragic
If you should miss the magic.
Little victories
Make history.
Simple chores
Win wars.
Modest principles
Work miracles.
You can sometimes go the extra mile
On the wheels of a single smile.
You will find help
In each small step.
Tiny tweaks are shiny seeds.
Daily deeds lead you to succeed.
Big doors swing on small hinges.
Progress is processed in inches.
When your goals are a no-show,
And your big ideas a no-go,
Shrink down to the micro.
When it seems impossible,
And it appears there's no way,
Think it not improbable -
You're only a tweak or two away.
This will blow your mind -
Take heed to the small
And you will surely find
You don't need me at all.
If you transition from wishin' to decision,
There'll be no need for any genie or magician."
So ends the skinny on Lenny Mangini
And the day he met a mini genie
Who made Lenny much wiser
By the quick flick of a lighter.
Meet Zask and Zisk,
See them venture forth --
They know little
About the destination,
Only that it's an energy station
On a big blue world
Known to locals as Earth.
"Look at that!"
Exclaims Zask,
"We are in luck --
This structure must be a gateway
To the stars in exchange for bucks."
The transparent portal opens
And the two cautiously fly through
Into an aromatic atmosphere,
Wondering what's about to brew.
"Here's an interesting tidbit,"
Offers Zask to Zisk,
"Our ships are called 'flying saucers'
Here on this oversized planet."
To which Zisk sarcastically replies,
"Well that's just ridiculously awesome,
Now would you please just can it?"
"I know the ride's been bumpy
But must you be so grumpy?"
Asks Zask to Zisk
From an elongated throat
Beginning to feel quite lumpy.
Between the text-backs and paperbacks
And the tap-taps and chit-chat,
Zisk and Zask hover undetected
Over these life forms so distracted.
"Home Base! Home Base!
Calling Home Base --
Why have you sent us
To this odd and noisy place?"
Tho' transmitted far from nigh,
Quickly comes back the reply:
"Navigator Zisk and Navigator Zask,
Yours is a mission of deduction
With a reconnaissance function --
So focus on the task
And await further instructions."
Zisk points out a place to land
On a wide strip of land,
Making sure Zask understands
To watch for the jittery giant hands.
"Tsk! Tsk! I know this, Zisk!
I'm not exactly new at this."
So without ado,
Boom or pop,
The scaled-down craft
Lands on the countertop.
There the saucer rests
Without drawing attention --
An inconspicuous arrival
From an alien dimension.
Meanwhile within the cockpit,
Zask and Zisk sit and wait
As they observe the human chatter
And clatter of cups and plates.
Suddenly and abruptly,
A bogey descends with a crash
On top of Zisk and Zask --
"We are under attack!"
Yells Zisk to Zask;
"Don't you think I know that?"
To Zisk yells back Zask,
"What in this world is that?"
Then into the chaos,
From a place deep in Space,
An urgent message reverberates
From the bowels of Home Base:
"RED ALERT! RED ALERT!
We tell you the truth --
A hot handled hostile
Has come down on your roof,
So ascend and abort!"
The trendy human specimens
Stare in utter disbelief
As the latte levitates
With the rising saucer underneath.
Up goes the mug
On one unsteady ride,
Splashing its frothy contents
Over its ceramic sides.
After the saucer zips away
Into the light of day,
Zask and Zisk let out sighs
And in unison the duo say:
"So that's why they call this
The Milky Way!"
Back home in the domain
Of their otherworldly plane,
Zisk and Zask feel disdain
As they strain to explain
Why and how their saucer
Now has a giant coffee stain.
A failure discovers the "magic" of the small --
from a miniature genie...
🔥 🔥 🔥
Have you heard the skinny on Lenny Mangini?
This fellow dreamed of a yellow Lamborghini
And the good life of more, much and plenty,
But Lenny's pockets lacked any profits or pennies.
Plagued by malaise and chronic sickness,
Two failed marriages and a bankrupt business.
Always on the lookout for a bargain,
Lenny liked to visit the flea market.
He bought himself a like-new parka.
One day he felt something in the pocket.
Inside he discovered a shiny golden object -
A special lighter with, let's say, a special effect.
Lenny made an attempt to ignite it,
But only sparks - Lenny couldn't light it.
"Just my luck," he said, "the thing is a dud."
So he chucked it into the trash with a thud.
"Wait a minute," he thought, "it's made of gold.
How much moolah for me if the thing is sold?"
Then the wastebasket began to shake and gyrate,
As the lighter within began to buzz and vibrate.
Suddenly the thing is flying toward his head.
Fortunately Lenny catches it instead.
His nervous hands struggled to hold it.
Still he felt compelled to give it a flick.
Up came the flame - exceptionally warm.
Somehow and someway - it morphed into a form.
"What in the world?," asked an upended Lenny
As he stared and glared at a bona fide genie.
You know, like Aladdin or I Dream of Jeannie -
Only this genie was teeny like a mini Houdini.
But before Lenny can make any wishes,
This apparition drops some serious wisdom:
"Would you believe I received this gig
To do away with the myth of the big?
Not all genies live in bottles and lamps.
I can help you, Lenny, become a champ.
I realize you're surprised by my size,
But it really doesn't count.
All your wishes can be granted -
No matter the amount.
The joy you can enjoy is unlimited,
Flowing and ongoing to ad infinitum,
If you can only grasp the definitive
Impact of the small and diminutive.
It is a shame and a pity
That all over this city,
People tend to miss the
Power of the itty-bitty.
It would be truly tragic
If you should miss the magic.
Little victories
Make history.
Simple chores
Win wars.
Modest principles
Work miracles.
You can sometimes go the extra mile
On the wheels of a single smile.
You will find help
In each small step.
Tiny tweaks are shiny seeds.
Daily deeds lead you to succeed.
Big doors swing on small hinges.
Progress is processed in inches.
When your goals are a no-show,
And your big ideas a no-go,
Shrink down to the micro.
When it seems impossible,
And it appears there's no way,
Think it not improbable -
You're only a tweak or two away.
This will blow your mind -
Take heed to the small
And you will surely find
You don't need me at all.
If you transition from wishin' to decision,
There'll be no need for any genie or magician."
So ends the skinny on Lenny Mangini
And the day he met a mini genie
Who made Lenny much wiser
By the quick flick of a lighter.
© Matt Decker
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