The crowds on the beach were forming. People had stopped what they were doing and were facing out to sea, an eerie hush spreading as the impossibility began to sink in. The sky was a pristine blue, and the sea perfectly still. Waves lapped gently, as they do in a Mediterranean summer.
The figures were in the distance, so far away that they were lost in the haze. They moved slowly, or at least they appeared to. Their limbs swinging as they waded through the glassy water. Women, middle aged, topless with massive swinging breasts, whose tanned skin was wet and whose hair hung down in coils. They pointed towards the shore. The scale was wrong. Everyone could see that, but it took time to compute their observations. There were cruise ships out to sea, basking in the same glorious weather as those on the beach. They were bobbing. They were bobbing on the waves the figures were creating. The figures were further away, and then they were upon the ships, which now looked like rubber ducks in a bath, overcome by the spray and white water that churned against the giantess’s thighs. The women were looming larger and larger. They were still so far out to sea, but everyone on the beach was now looking up at them.
The noise started. It was water, it was the roaring of the water they shifted in their wake, a tsunami approaching. Then it was their voices, booming across the bay. Then the crowd reacted. The silence became a stir, which became a clatter, which became a panic. Crowds were running, there was screaming. The women seemed to surge closer with every step, rising out oof the water as it became shallower, the weight of their titanic breasts becoming terrifying as they swung and slapped together. Then they made landfall, and the earth shook from their footsteps, and the air rung with their laughter. Buildings collapsed. We were all their playthings.