Zeptember Day 2: Underfoot
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Robert was still sitting in the car, legs out. He crushed the cigarette with his foot and rose. Women did it every day, and soccer had already tested his legs and ankles. How hard could it be?
He retrieved the box for his new snakeskin boots and closed the door. He took a tentative step away from the car. And another. His gait was stiff, but it would get better. He smiled, thinking of the giant figure he'd cast on the stage.
He reached the sidewalk. "Great! He walks!" Bonzo rolled his eyes and turned for the hotel entrance.
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