Kicked to the Curb Surviving on Short Notice chapter 3 by deleted_user

You lay there on the hot, unforgiving concrete of the sidewalk, the asphalt already radiating heat up into your tiny body. The sudden, dizzying drop from the vial had left you momentarily stunned, but the immediate threat of being crushed or simply baked under the sun snapped you back to alertness. The greenish gas Dr. Wright had released was already making your skin tingle, a familiar, terrifying feeling that confirmed you were still shrinking, albeit slowly. You were barely one centimeter tall now. The familiar scent of suburban life—cut grass, car exhaust, and sun-baked asphalt—was overwhelmingly intense. Every pebble, every blade of grass, every crack in the pavement was equally terrifying for you to behold. Curse that bitchy doctor!

You knew your chances of survival in the open were virtually zero. Your first, desperate priority was getting to cover. You needed to get off the high-traffic sidewalk before another giant approached. You aren't far from the edge of this square of cement. the deep crack ahead would provide shelter from the heat but would leave you exposed for longer. Your second option is to dive straight into the grass separating the sidewalk from the street, where a giant, red fire hydrant could shield you from the sun, and maybe have some moisture around it. As you think about what to do next, you hear the deafening rumble of a car whiz past you, and the resulting gale threatens to sweep you off your feet!