My life as a giant in a human city

It has become a routine.

Around 9 a.m, I get up, have a breakfast, and then leave for the city. I have been living here for years, and the first weeks were difficult. My first mission was to gain their trust. They were terrified when I appeared for the first time. Giants usually come to their cities to 'have fun', and it’s never good news for them.

When they realized that I meant no harm, they welcomed me and agreed to build a house.

I proudly stand at 200 feet, dressed in a vintage suit tailored to my frame. I tip my fedora hat to the crowds below. My steps send tremors to the ground and anyone nearby can feel it. I have to admit, it is arousing to know that walking is enough to show how powerful I am.

Naturally, I have become the main attraction. Thousands of citizens and tourists gather whenever I appear. I often become the center of their activities and conversations.

Although I do not make the decisions, I have a considerable influence, and it is an honor to hold such a responsibility. They take my suggestions into account for bridges, roads, and buildings.

I also appear in magazines that regularly request interviews, which I grant them joyfully. It is so lovely - and entertaining - to watch them use lifts to ascend to my shoulder. The major concern is that I need to lower my voice when they get that close, as my normal tone is like thunder to their fragile ears.

I take time to talk to people whenever they want a conversation with me. I often find myself deeply invested in various topics for a few hours.

In the evening, I go to a restaurant that prepares a dinner adapted to my needs. I pay them five times the price given the amount of ressources I need. Some people, mostly tourists, come every evening only to share their dinner with me. I am somehow sponsoring the restaurant and to a larger extent, the city itself. I love it.

It hasn’t always been so perfect. One day, I was in a terrible mood and someone was rude to me. I couldn’t hold back my anger: I punched two buildings that effortlessly collapsed. Hundreds were seriously injured, but nobody died. It was a miracle, but I lost their trust for a long time.

A few days later, I offered my help to rebuild what I had destroyed. They accepted, probably because they thought they had no choice. I worked with them, even if they remained highly suspicious. They have forgiven me since, and now when I feel the need to let my feelings out, I walk away. I can’t let that happen again.

Things returned to normal, but a minority is still afraid that I could wreak havoc at any moment. I can’t blame them. They must feel like helpless ants compared to me and honestly that’s how many giants see them. No matter how gentle and careful I try to be, fear is still there.

Sometimes, I wonder how things would have turned if I had been cruel. That might have been fun, but I would get bored quickly.

Being gentle is more rewarding. After all, I get everyone's attention. Some fans worship me and offer me their service. I was hesitant at first, but after giving it a try, I have always been pleased to have a feet massage from hundreds of people at the same time ;)