Sally limped into the shoe store with a hop-shuffle. A passerby had slid the store’s business card into her hand when her heel broke in a sewer grate. She wouldn’t go to her divorce proceedings on a broken shoe. The… Continue Reading
The first time I threw a shoe at my shrink was right after he claimed I was “prone to fits of irrational behavior.” That was his opinion after a year of therapy. Considering his fee, I expected more than what… Continue Reading
My pops taught me, to look good you must have the right shoes. Now, he took off when I was 17, but he instilled in me that desire to look good, and I really loved my shoes. I had four… Continue Reading
Red patent leather winks out from the central window of the store. On the left uniformed dummy-girls wear pleated gymslips, bound with fixed girdles of red or green or blue. One is uncomfortably bumfled up in an unseasonable Burberry. On… Continue Reading
“Okay, push!” The woman’s face squinched up, reddening with effort. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. “Maybe if you wiggled a bit,” he suggested. “Like this?” “Ah, here let me–” He shoved harder. “Ow!” she howled, her lardonous… Continue Reading