My colorful sneakers and I went running today. We actually run for no particular reason, the way western people run in spring to get rid of winter fat, just round and round the Athen’s Olympic Complex. Of course the “round and round” part is an awful lie, every ten steps or so I felt I’d die and stopped. I blame my 12 years of smoking for that.
Last Sunday, my Chuck Taylors and I went window shopping in a desperate attempt to have a walk. Have you noticed the lack of places to go for a casual walk in the suburbs? We always end up in this commercial street which seems to be the only one with a decent sidewalk. By the way, the local shops are closing down, I feel like a vulture almost smiling at the thought of clearance prices.
Some do it in a really dramatic way:
On one of these shoe Sundays, I saw this work of art that resembled a pair of red peep-toes. I usually say that a pair of red peep-toes is a work of art, not the other way round, so I got really confused. I didn’t know if I’m supposed to wear them or dust them on a coffee table.
Speaking of peep-toes, ain’t spring something!