I slowly lift one out of the box and put it on my foot, then the other, taking my time balancing on the tiny heels as I square my shoulders and slowly...walk out of the bedroom and through the house, looking for him, the sound of my heels on the hardwood floors echoing loudly - I take care to lift my feet and place them precisely without scuffing along. I can feel the wetness seeping between my lips as I walk, my thighs brushing and spreading my wetness even more…I find him standing on the far. The mud was disgusting. It didn’t matter how careful one was, there was no way to keep it from sticking. And where are the fruits? A banana? Haven’t these people heard of a tomato? Or a mango? Meat. Bread. Onions. A carrot. A potato. That’s it. No wonder they look like ghosts. Unhappy ones. Of course they’re pale. Where’s the sun, anyway? And it’s not even winter yet.She had hated London. Too many people. Too many horses and carriages. Smelly. Dirty. Noisy. Oxford, on the other hand, seemed to. More

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