I often wonder what it’s like to be very small indeed. Smaller than me. Little dog sized or even tinier than that. The first time I revealed this idea to MS, I was staring at the pores on his face underneath his nose, investigating the stubble and I told him I was imagining what it would be like to walk on the surface of a man’s face. (I’m surprised he ended up marrying me).
I imagine walking on the surface of a man’s beard would be bumpy, warm and a little bit like being in a forest, although there would be no animals. Except, if you were that small, would you be able to see all the creatures that we cannot see crawling about our skin? You know–the microscopic circus that we can’t see because we are blessed with inadequate vision. I think I would trip a lot on the ridges of the skin cells, much like I trip over the cracks in sidewalks.