Serves Me Right....

After all of my rushing through the Parisian negative space I got what was coming to me.  The leather on my new gold Tropezienne sandals is nice and stretched out after cutting off a grandma who was walking like a snail on downers in the metro:  as I jet out in front of her she stepped on the back of my shoe.  I, on the other hand,  just kept power walking all the way to my line 8 connection, my sandal still caught under Grandmère's orthopedic kicks.

I now have a floppy right sandal and a snuggly fitting left one.


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