Look Up
Her shoes are black. Flat. Uncomfortable looking. Cheap. “Why don’t you ever look at me when we talk?” I must admit, she has an admirable bosom, but I’m caught gazing at her feet. It’s hard to look people in the eyes. I must admit, I’m scared to look up. “It seems like all you ever do is stare at my feet?” I don’t know why waste money on poor shoes when you can make one purchase for a good pair.…
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