Thursday, August 31, 2006

Recognize my shoes?

I recognize yours. You couldn't suppress the noises when I came in. Oh, how you tried. But for lack of a better word, they slipped out. Did you really think you could hold yourself until I left? I always like to take my time when someone's in your position. One of those games we all play. Make sure no 'dots' show up. I wash my hands for the proper amount of time, make sure they're dry. I went back to the café loveseat, kicked up me feet on the table and continued writing. A few minutes later you walked out. I secretly observed you glancing at everyone's shoes trying to figure out who was in there while you were 'occupied.'

My only advice: next time you feel you may need to use the public stalls when you go out and don't want to be recognized, avoid the bright red Pumas. Wear something more generic.

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