While studying for her European Lit final, Lucy fell asleep on the quad. Upon awaking, she was no larger than a quarter.
Clouds had gathered, harbingers of seasonal storms. Some strange compulsion made Lucy skitter toward a nearby dorm and up a gutter drain. The roof. She had to reach the roof.
Halfway up, the skies opened and flushed her back out onto the lawn.
Dazed, she found herself thinking of Gregor Samsa's senseless suffering. But I'm different, she said. I'll make it. Still, as the sun dried her eight legs, she wished she wasn't so small -- so itsy bitsy.