Whispers of doubt come from an evil source

Friday, March 4, 2011

When my two brothers and I were young we always knew school was getting close because our mother would take us downtown to buy new shoes, a dress pair and a school pair (not hand-me-downs but the real thing). My fifth grade year I talked my mom into letting me get a pair of black patten-leather shoes with French heels. I tried them on with little white anklets and felt so pretty as I blundered gracelessly up and down the rows of boxed foot apparel, thrilled with the tapping sound my new "church shoes" made on the linoleum floor.

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