March 12th excerpt:

Seeing no options on top of the bed, Jacob edged toward the side. Peering over the side was like looking down into a canyon. He’d only climbed down the blankets to the floor once before, and that was with someone nearby to catch him in case he slipped.

There was a resounding click followed by the ominous echo of a door creaking open. Jacob didn’t have any time.

He started a downward climb. It was tough, and clumsy for someone who didn’t practice climbing much at all, but his fingers fit in the weave of the blanket hanging over the side of the bed. It was like climbing down a huge, thick net.

March 11th excerpt:

Jacob shuffled over to the music player and crouched down next to it. The cord from the earphones was cumbersome, and it almost felt like it was actively trying to tangle around him as he pushed it aside so he could reach the buttons.

When he could finally see the front of the device, now the size of a TV for him, he pressed an entire hand on one of the buttons. Choosing his own music, at least, was something he could still do by himself without someone making an argument against it.

March 10th excerpt:

The lock on the front door clicked shut in the distance, and Jacob heaved a sigh. He flopped backwards on his bed to stare at the ceiling, while the simple relief of having some time to himself settled over him. It had been so long since his mom had given him any solitude at all, always hovering nearby or having him stay somewhere in the same room where she was working.

March 9th excerpt:

When a finger bigger than either brothers head brushed over Dean, melting some of the snow instantly on contact and knocking a few other flakes free from his flattened spike of hair, he jerked back on instinct, and dragged Sam along with him as he cringed from the hand that could scoop them both into a fist in seconds. Sam was limp, offering no resistance to Dean’s motion.

John sucked in a startled breath, jerking his hand back for a second. Before he could think about it, his hand shot back out and curled behind the moving figure’s back. His hand didn’t close, simply formed a barrier of warmth for the kid. They looked so small against his palm, and he took half a second to process the fact that they didn’t just look like tiny kids, they were real.

March 8th excerpt:

A few steps away was a crossing, which had just turned in the direction that John wasn’t heading, so he shoved his hands in his pockets with a sigh and waited patiently for the light.

Boredom struck quickly, and curiosity brought his attention sliding back the way he’d come, to that strange figure in the snow. He didn’t understand why until he thought about it; whatever it was, it was small enough to be a toy. But a fallen toy wouldn’t manipulate itself in such a position.

March 7th excerpt:

Dean glanced to the side, his gaze softening. Sam was slumped against his side, exhausted and weary. They had run for most of the day, leaving the younger kid drained and unable to keep up with his older brother for long. Dean had tried giving Sam a piggyback for a bit, but he tired as well within the hour.

We’ll just stop for a bit… get your energy back up and then we’ll find someplace safe and warm, okay?

March 6th excerpt:

Sam blinked up at the ceiling overhead. He was currently under the coffee table in the living room. His new world was so different. Thick carpet fibers under his boots threatened to offset his balance, and from time to time dust would try clinging to him. Sam brushed the dust off. He was growing used to that, at least. His new size came with so many other downfalls, he just ignored the small annoyances.

Close by, one of Jacob’s trucks was left on its own. The younger boy must have left it there before he had to leave with his mom. It wasn’t safe for Sam to come with them all the time, so he’d remained in the house.

Curious, he trailed a hand up the door to the truck. If it wasn’t thick plastic, Sam would be the right size to open the door and sit in the driver’s seat. He grinned a little at that thought, imagining himself driving around a truck through the house.

March 4th excerpt:

At 2 pm, the phone rang and Sherlock Holmes was the only one around to answer it.

Dr. John Watson had already left for his shift at a newly acquired job (evidently determined to make this one stick so they could “pay the damn rent”). Sam and Dean Winchester, the other flatmates standing at four inches tall at the most were hardly under obligation to answer the landline. That left the detective, who was too impatient to let it continue to ring any longer.

“Sherlock Holmes,” he answered curtly.