To start, these are my feet. My past feet. My feet in Paris. This blog is about feet. Where they go, how they feel, and what they are attached to. This picture was taken sometime last April. I don't remember what my feet felt then, but I have a feeling some pleasure and maybe a little fright of falling down the cracks. They were looking all through Paris. I don't think they liked the rain too much, or all the other shuffling, smelly feet around them. They were a guest to the floor they stand on.

But, we should move on to now-a-day feet, huh? Today I went to drop off some medication to a tooth acher. As I was there I looked down and saw two things: a puppy no bigger than a coffee mug and a pair of feet looking oh so ready to work in some yellow doc martian construction boots. They looked also a bit embarrassed of their outer shell. The legs on them were from a boy who looked too into himself and had forgotten them. They walked the room, lagging behind the fool they carried. I thought, poor feet,poor boots, what bad luck they had than.

The rest of my day was filled with school feet, which I look at just like ants and don't give a second look too. I should though, right? The worlds crawling with feet attached to brains you'll never meet because you don't want to. They could be the feet for you! Your next best friend. But we skip out, and move our toes forward. Womp Womp Womp.

Now the only feet around me are fuzzy and the size of a quarter. They are little Holden's four feet, the only pure ones I've seen all day. Hes glad they hold up his body up and let him swat at my eyelids. That's all the feet I can think of today but tomorrow's a fresh day and I'm sure I can fill your head up with more of them then. ;Q