Does This Really Need a Title

So I’m driving home from aikido the other night trying to imagine the proper scale of problematic giant but not a call-the-national-guard sized one.  What comes to mind is four times a normal human.  So 6 feet goes to 24 feet.  But then I start realizing I have no idea what 24 feet really means.

Can someone that tall climb up a highway overpass?  With ease, some difficulty, or not at all?  What about changing the light’s in a highway street lamp?  Any guesses where I was driving?

I considered finding some photos on flickr to scale giants next to regular sized folks.  I haven’t done this yet, but something tells me it won’t be as illustrative as I’d like.  You know, since I bet there are no pics of people standing next to overpasses and streetlamps.

I’m thinking four times as big might be able to wriggle into a normal sized door sideways and slow and painful as long as the interior room was large enough to lay down in.

A giant that size would still be reasonably hideable too.  Especially in the woods or among houses.  Not just standing out by the mailbox, but laying down in a backyard actively trying to hide.  They just couldn’t move around from one place to the next without notice.

Food and other required resources wouldn’t be too difficult to come by.  Unless these were raving giants that ate human flesh.  Depending on the culture even clothing and shoes would be doable.  It’s one thing to have custom made boots for a large footed person and another to give Godzilla flip-flops.

I’ll be driving again his evening.  WIll think more about it along the way.

Day 260

The Chris Island Forge and Brassworks

This past week will not go down as one of my favorites. Remarkably it’s difficult to resist describing it in all its glory. If I’m unsuccessful, all you get are these three sentences.

J.M. Walters was building a falcon. Or, more accurately, his employers, The Chris Island Forge and Brassworks, constructed the thing.

Tanna and the Giant

“Up ahead Mama,” called Tanna.  She dashed several steps out in front, but slowed when her mother did not match her new pace.

“I see, Flower.  I see.”  Cuivva had watched the light through the trees grow since the last bend, but she always let Tanna discover their progress first.  It reminded her of times past when she could still let the little girl win a game of jumpers.  Finding the giant’s path was about the only thing left Cuivva could figure out before Tanna.

Sunlight from the south brightened the green leaves of the trees on th opposite side of the giant’s path while silhouetting the the nearer ones.  The effect from their smaller human trail gave the feeling of approaching a meadow–a very long, but not wide, meadow.

Cuivva spotted the redundant sign post with the unnecessary writing–which she couldn’t read–before Tanna too.  Everyone knew what lay ahead.

This isn’t picking up as smoothly as I’d like this morning and I’m fat fingering more keys than I’m not.  I think I’ll call this good for now and maybe sleep on it.

Day 259