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There is lustful verve that comes from wearing long pointy shoes.
One travels from the toes, consequently the rest of the torso is swept back, taking it all in.
I have been in post office queues in the West End where a girl has stood behind me with the tips of her pointed shoes nestling under my heel. Spinning around I asked her
“Those aren’t really the shape of your feet?”
She admitted I was right.
“Just so long as I haven’t been treading on anything important.”
Oh! What fun it is to blog – the biennial post is the perfect frequency if you’re busy.
It saves everyone from the pedantic report of a quiet year and develops the skill of Extreme Precis.
