811: Dream, dream, dream

Mar 04, 2007 23:59

This ones for maidenite. I'm not saying anything about your feet at all! Nor am I saying anything about your ability to spell the plural of foot! It just. Is. For. Kev!

Chapter the Xth: Foots

There was always something not quite right about his feet. They were pretty regular feet, complete with five toes on each foot, each toe coming complete with a toenail. Of varying sizes. Quite often they weren't in the greatest of state, but they were still recognizable as toes, and not giant swarming bees. That was always a good distinction to make to confirm they were indeed toenails. But yet still, there was the small things: the things you had to look closer at, to get more detail. But you were often afraid of going too close to anyone's feet, so to general recognition, they were just feet. You don't often see people looking deeply at stranger's feet, even if they request kindly for said stranger to do said act.

The left foot had several of these problems which could only be seen at good distance. Firstly, it was the big toe. It didn't quite wiggle the way the other nine toes did. In fact, at several points in his life, it didn't wiggle at all. In actual fact, at several even more specific points in his life, there were serious concerns over the unwiggling toe. Toes are meant to wiggle. That was a fact of life that all souls were born with. If you toes ain't wiggling, you ain't singing! Or Singling. I never got the hang of that rhyme.

Secondly, still on the left foot, would be the small indentations along the base of his foot, from the unfortunate time he had managed to jump upon a metal dog-grooming brush. Of course, it wasn't a pleasant experience for any parties concerned. Most definitely not for the wooden bannister with which his was in close proximity, which felt his anger as his teeth sank into it. It was known to the steps, the walls and the ceiling in the same room, that the bannister had several severe complaints about that act, which were duly noted. Yet, none of them could act upon this matter brought before them, due to the inane fact they were inanimate objects, and shouldn't be thinking or voicing concerns at all.

Finally, and we're still on just the left foot here, the arch of the angle of his foot, decided it would not fit the usual ratio of foot to heel, and make for some small inconsistencies in footsteps. Of course, some might consider this a fatal flaw in the impartial criticism of foot creation - typically, each foot should be unique. But sometimes uniqueness came with a price. And that price was affecting the perfect mathematical ratio inscribed in all good feet that walk the Earth.

The right foot had less problems. In actual fact, one might consider it perfect, if not only for the small problem that it was almost one centimetre bigger than the left foot. The small creatures that roamed the carpet of his house were adamant to this fact, and it was entirely the cause for their untimely demise. Miscalculating the length of his foot, they sent several good men on to the field to examine the likeliness of growing carrots in the unwieldy regions of "Carpetonia", a land not so rich in natural resources. It is indeed a story for another time, but it must be mentioned that Nathaniel the Fourth, Zachamia the Eighth and Bob (the First?) had bitten the dust, which is a kind way of saying they were squashed, due to this inaccuracy in his foot.

Despite all this inadequacies, there was one thing that could be said about his feet - they were never left with the typical lingering smell of cheese that is stereotypical to feet all around the world. So, when he awoke to smell his feet, with the pure lingering fragrance of Wensleydale, there were definitely questions to be asked. And whence upon later inspection, he discovered that his left foot was no longer complete with unwiggling toe, several indentations across the base, imperfect foot to heel arcing ratio and differing length between feet, he knew straight away that something was up.

"Oh crap, I've done it again, haven't I?" boomed a mysterious, deep voice seemingly coming from all around him. "I never can get that right."

life of stee

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