Tuesday, December 18, 2018

Estranged But Not Separated

by J. La Mont (writer), , October 12, 2006


I looked down today and saw two strangers. Unnamed and unloved my feet looked worn from twisted ankles that never truly healed, from miles of getting to Point B from Point A with countless alleyway shortcuts and forest paths between. We’ve walked across Paris in Springtime and slid among the golden leaves of a Kansas Autumn. We’ve kicked, dived and leapt in senseless displays of masculinity for trinkets and praise. Step for step we explored new worlds and shadows just out of sight.

Yet sometime between then and now we grew apart. I take pride in knowing myself in every sense of the word. The physical and psychological scars have each received careful study and appreciation. The creases, neuroses, and curves are all referenced and loved. Not my feet though. It could have been that my head was always in the clouds instead of below. I don't know. I took for granted they’d bear the burden and they always did. I assumed they’d do whatever I asked and wasn’t wrong. I thought they’d never change, I’d never change, but we have. I guess even the North Star will flicker and fade one day.

For those of you who are more militant about their feet than I, or readers with a thirst for the unusual, I suggest or to learn about the emerging barefoot movement. Nothing will impress your coworkers and loved ones more than random factoids. Trust me. I'm the media.

About the Writer

J. La Mont is a writer for BrooWaha. For more information, visit the writer's website.
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