I blinked, and Atlas was the right size to sit at the table with us. Freya had abandoned her flaming sword, and was touching up her violently red lipstick, boots propped on a corner of the table.
I sat, still in my dirty, torn, polka-dott(more)ed party dress. Ranged down both sides of the table, creatures I'd created and met in the universes of others talked, and ate, and laughed.
A solid, petite woman seated at the middle of the table was attended by a crowd of sheep. She launched tiny, jewel-bright macarons with a spoon into the mouth of the shark-headed man across from her. A beautiful porcelain couple brooded at the far end of the table. Miniature Cthulus flapped overhead, landing haphazardly in tureens of mashed potatoes. A dark-eyed queen held court at the head of the table nearest me. She glanced over one caramel shoulder at me, and the greenish man at her side smiled secretly.
So many creations. I couldn't fathom why they were all here.
"Pull up a chair, babes, it's your party. But you can't cry, even if you want to." Freya kicked a chair out for me with one big boot.
"Thank you for saving me."
"Of course." Freya was gnawing a shank of mutton. I hoped the petite girl's sheep didn't notice.
She stopped chewing. "We're your friends. When you're in trouble, we'll come. Right, Atlas?" He was on my left, drinking water, and nodded.
"But I've been in trouble for years. Why did this all happen now?"
Freya eyed her boots, and Atlas watched us both.
"Did you ever find your shoes?" He asked, swirling the water in his glass.
"No. Never did." The cool grass tickled my bare feet.
"Can't journey without shoes!" The petite woman called to us.(less)