The foot nearest to you taps in a steady rhythm. The carpet slightly dampened the footfalls but most of the subsiding force blew right into your chest. Climbing up the side would be a death sentence, but you needed a way out of the shoe's impact zone. Bobbing up and down with the movement of the shoe was your ticket: A loose shoelace left untied and dragging along the ground whenever the foot fell. You run as hard as your little legs carry you towards the lace. The massive beam crashes into the carpet a few inches away and with time to spare you easily jump onto its fabric and hold on tight.
How long could this song be? You were flailing around the lace like a maniac waiting desperately for the foot to settle but your time never came. Whether it was just a great song or Ellie's general nerves that caused this, you were none the wiser. What you did know was that if this didn't stop soon, you'd be flung into oblivion by the whip-like lace. Above, you saw a bright patch of bare skin above the ankle where the sock ended. Ellie's jeans rode up each time she lifted her foot giving you a small window of time to make contact. Grabbing the knife from your bag, you hold it tightly as the lace swings wildly up and down. Soon enough you're in tune with whatever rhythm was blasting in Ellie's ears, timing you release at the peak of the foot's raise, you release the knife with surprising precision. As the lace smacks into the ground, you watch as your small knife hurls towards Ellie's skin until its serrated blade plunges into the surface. The blow drew no blood but did not go unfelt by the deity above.
"OUCH!" Ellie hissed. A mountainous hand zipped from the table down to meet the ankle. Watching as the deadly fingers massage the skin, inadvertently flinging the knife back down into the carpet, you decide to cut your loss and bolt up the shoelace. The slope was smoother now that it had stopped moving and your trip was quick. The side of the sneaker had a gentler fabric making it even easier to reach the fingertip. You watch as the colossal nail swoops below waiting to catch you. Releasing your grip, your body smacks roughly into the hard surface. You crawl back to the cuticle and firmly grasp the skin as the hand returns to the table.
You are on Ellie's pointer finger as she returns to swap the comic for sketching in her notebook, she has yet to notice you. You can slide down the fingernail or stay here...
