Out of proportion-Pick me up!

I’ve been asked to come inside here, there’s this thing that I have to find. I should grab it quickly and hand it to my peers waiting outside, but it’s so nice in here. I'd gladly extend my search to enjoy the warmth, the intimacy that encloses everything in this dark pocket. Checking for this thing, I begin to crawl around, very fast at first. Soon after: very slowly, feeling my way through the lethargic clutter. For they’ll have no option but to wait for me, I reconsider. I’m calmly strolling when an unexpected fit strikes my body. Something has tickled me in that creasy area between the wrist and the palm. The unexpected touch is subtle as it is confident and it sends me into a pleasurable wave of goosebumps. I turn myself around to inspect the playful caress, timidly patting it with my index. I realize I’m touching organic filaments, leftovers from a body. The realization turns the tickle turns into short-lived repulsion. Another wave of goosebumps invades my physique, not so much a delightful one this time around. Not what I’m searching for, I resolve in between shivers. As I move forward a knob pushes me gently on the front, stopping me from further advancing. The thing feels cold at first when I inspect it, touching it at once with all my digits. Soon after my fingers have started clutching the object, its rounded surfaces become lukewarm, perhaps even balmy under my extremities. Hard enough not to break, soft enough not to cut me. Certainly not metal. Probably a cheap, comfy plastic, I think. Soon after I’ve started studying it, my fingers find themselves dancing to the rhythm of a spring mechanism: press, release, press, release, press to feel the whole thing open like a clam, release and the whole apparatus closes in a heartbeat. Press, release! I guess I shouldn’t be wasting so much time. I comfort myself by thinking this won’t take much longer, I’ll find this thing and immediately come back outside with the others. I shift up a gear on my search, hastily groping my surroundings in every direction, combing through the clutter. The shredded edges of a soft piece of material catch my attention. The paper or textile-like object seems to be folded onto itself, as if protecting a precious core. Curious to unfold the mystery, I carefully grip its wrinkles, some of them come apart under my clasp. As I get deep into my task, the layers begin to feel fresh, moist, an instinct tells me to stop but I get to its heart. I should’ve known better, the slimey touch creeps me up. I’m about to groan: Who the hell would keep this nasty thing?, but as I move back in disgust: Fuck! A sharp pain has pierced my middle knuckle. Why did I even volunteer for this task! Once the most pointed part of the twinge has worn away, I collect myself in order to examine my aggressor. The stinging tip is followed by a needle-like body which is attached to a semicircular head made of something cold and vicious, like metal. During my inspection, I realize the needle can be pressed so that it lodges inside said metal head. Much safer this way, the hands of the future will have to applaud me…What was I looking for, though?, I try to remind myself. What was it for, this thing? and who asked for it?, I squeeze my brain, struggling to bring myself back to the instant I entered the space. Maybe if I relocate my mind at that exact moment the thought will haunt me again. I take a rest by laying on my back, fingers spread up, a little break will definitely h…YES! I stand up quickly with a triumphant feeling, ready to grab the thing and leave. I take an athletic step to my left, only to realize I didn’t move an inch. My pinky finger seems to be stuck in a kind of web, keeping the rest of my body from further advancing. If I could only leave it behind, who needs a pinky anyway? I try to unstrap it with the fingers that are still free. I’m not skillful enough, the operation becomes clumsy and so the net, the naughty net, traps the index and the thumb. Now I’m fully stuck in the web, waiting for the spider to come eat me. In the absence of a second helping hand, I’ll have to be patient, take my time. It takes me a couple of minutes that feel like hours and then I’m free. I came back outside, exhausted. Of course I forgot to grab the thing! (written by Miguel Parrrra)