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David Levy's avatar

Rather than drawing my foot, I would like to interview. Good morning, foot, are you right or left? I can’t tell who is responding; are you disguising your voice? Ok, whichever, let’s begin. It’s 7:30am, and you’ve already been in shoes and outdoors. The have-a-heart trap captured mouse #6 last night. You drove the car a couple of miles and let the mouse loose. Drove home for breakfast. Though you are not directly part of the digestive system, you say you benefit greatly from the nourishment provided. And you’re grateful for all the blood pumped by the heart to your distant location. So, tell me, do you like to travel? I gather from all that lively wiggling of toes that your answer is a resounding “yes”. And where have you been? Tea in Tokyo, hummus in Palestine, tapping to music on a mountain in Israel, riding a horse drawn taxi in Rome, climbed around the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland, waited for a plane in Paris, climbed a mountain in Montana, kicked a potter’s wheel in New Mexico. Held onto a stirrup while riding horseback. Walked barefoot often when young. Gripped a waterski in Summer. Kicked a football, soccer ball, hopped here and there, leaped from boulder to boulder pretending to be a goat’s sturdy foot. Bathed in the ocean. Recently soaked in a warm bath of white vinegar and water. Often felt such relief when freed of shoe and sock. Climbed many stairs. Bumped into various objects, feeling “ouch”. Been kissed and caressed. Enjoy a cool breeze. Appreciate the support of a well-designed shoe. Am now growing impatient with this interview, eagerly awaiting a warm morning shower. So, thank you for taking this time, be away with you and enjoy the shower. Do you mind if I join you?🏮

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Kate Atkinson's avatar

The skin on the bottom of my foot is hard and leathered while the top is tanned from the years spent barefoot. Hot black sand has burnt it, cold snow has cooled it, rocks have shaped it, grass has stained it. My feet have seen the earth it all its glory.

Toes curve down like a wave about to break and my arch curls, stretching, readying itself to take the person attached to it on an adventure. The scar on the outer part curves towards me like a smile, reminding me of the day it appeared — a heavy curtain rail fell on it just as I was about to walk down the aisle as a bridesmaid, oh the scramble for a hefty plaster to cover it up!

A faint jandal line remains from summer.

This right foot wants to feel the sand between its toes and the crunch of frost, it wants to know concrete and wood, dirt and snow, it yearns to return inside tap shoes and hopes to summit more mountains. But for now it is content to take the person attached to it wherever she wants to go. Just glad for weekly walks on the beach and swims in the sea. Glad for afternoons on grass watering the garden, and by the fire gently warming.

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