“Oh,” said Lenora. She took a tissue from an overturned box and carefully smoothed out the powder and the word HELLO. She also shook some powder from a doughnut to give the ant more space to write.

The ant began anew. AN ACQUAINTANCE OF MINE NEEDS YOUR HELP QUITE URGENTLY.

“Why can’t your friend ask me themself?” said Lenora, and smoothed out the powder.

SHE IS VERY SMALL, the ant wrote. AND SHE DOESN’T HAVE MUCH TIME.

“If you think she’s small,” said Lenora, “then I imagine I would hardly be able to see her at all. Very clever of her to ask you for help. So what does she need?” She smoothed the powder.

THIS IS GOING TO TAKE FOREVER TO EXPLAIN, wrote the ant.

“Right,” said Lenora. She thought about writing in her notebook that communication via powdered sugar was slow and laborious, but the point seemed rather obvious. “I think I’d better just ask your friend directly.”

HOWEVER WILL YOU DO THAT? the ant wrote.

“We librarians have our ways,” said Lenora, extending her finger to the ant. “Hop on.”

The ant climbed on obligingly, and Lenora went to the tube. She scanned the tags until she found SHRINKING ROOM. After a short, high-pressure journey, they arrived.

“Wait here,” said Lenora to the ant. “It’s no good if you get shrunk, too.” She walked in. Instantly the walls and ceilings seemed to vanish and she was standing on a perfectly flat plain that went on endlessly in all directions. Above her seemed to be nothing but open sky.

I’ve shrunk! thought Lenora, for even though she had expected this, it is still startling the first time one is shrunk to the size of an ant. She turned around and saw what appeared to be an enormous wall going straight up into the air. That is the edge of the doorway, she realized. It seemed miles away now. Nearby, she noticed a smooth bump in the floor. She walked over to it. It was a miniature tube. Of course, she thought. Tiny librarians have to get around somehow.

She got in and used her key to take the mini-tube back to the entrance, where she found the ant waiting patiently. Lenora was not at all startled to see that the ant was now at shoulder level. Close up, she was far hairier than Lenora would have expected, with jagged pincers and black, dead-looking eyes that reminded her of the Other Mother from one of her favorite books. She was glad that she and the ant had already established a friendship, for the sight of a human-size ant was, quite frankly, terrifying.

“I don’t suppose that, like beluga whales, ants can mimic human speech?” said Lenora hopefully.