Size of a Whisper
By Karin Cameron
I have always wished that I could be tiny again. Maybe even the size of a whisper.
“Mom, how small is a whisper?” I asked.
“A whisper?” she asked. “I imagine very small, Mark. How come?”
“My new baby sister is tiny. I want to be tiny again too, and a whisper might be a good tiny size to be,” I said.
“Yes Olivia is tiny, but you are a big boy. Why do you want to be tiny again?” my mom asked.
“I don’t remember being tiny. I think being tiny again would be fun. If I was tiny again then you could carry me around just like Olivia,” I said.
“I could tell you stories of when you were tiny,” my mom suggested.
“No, that will not work,” I said. “I need to be tiny in a whisper sort of way.”
I headed off to my room and closed the door. With my door closed, Mom couldn’t bother me in my transformation to become a whisper. I felt excited about being tiny again and did a little dance.
After my dance, I grabbed my photo album and flashlight off my bookcase. I walked over and closed my blinds so that it would be very dark. Then I sat in the middle of my bed.
I opened the photo album full of my baby pictures and shined my flashlight on them. After I had the pictures in my memory, I switched off the flashlight so I could concentrate. Nothing happened. I needed help. I shone my flashlight around my room until I found what I needed. My secret weapon!
Placing my football helmet on my head, I once again sat on my bed. I pointed the flashlight on the pictures quickly and then shut it off. I closed my eyes and thought really hard. I was still having trouble, so I placed both my hands firmly on my helmet. My hands will help keep my powers from escaping.
I whispered, “Mark, baby Mark. Tiny baby Mark.”
Then I stopped whispering and thought again, tiny like a whisper. Then slowly I started to feel like a whisper, which is really quite small, the size of lint from a belly button. The same tiny as in the baby pictures of me. I had tiny fingers, toes, arms, legs, and even my belly button was tiny too. I had done it! I had become the size of a whisper.
I jumped off my bed, tore off my helmet, and open my bedroom door.
“Mom, Mom,” I called running down the hall.
“Yes Mark, what is it?” she asked.
“I did it. I became the size of a whisper!” I said, falling into her lap. “Oh no,” I added. “What happened? I’m not tiny anymore. It didn’t last.”
“It’s okay Mark. Tell me how tiny a whisper was,” my mom said.
“The size of belly button lint,” I proudly said.
“Goodness, that is small,” she said with a smile. “But I like you as a big boy instead,” she added, giving me a squeeze, “because big boys get to help me make cookies.”
“Then I am a big boy, and not the size of a whisper,” I told my mom.
© 1997 Karin Cameron (originally published in Fandangle magazine)
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Why is it all of us at one time or another want to be something else...even Mark! But then all we have to do is realize what we can do, just as we are! Wasn't this a great story? Let Karin know through your comments and thoughts!
