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Author Topic: Slippers  (Read 89 times)
Ngillies
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« on: June 16, 2017, 05:26:06 AM »

Cold hardwood floor, coming at my feet from below, cold winter air, settling in on them from above, the snow outside a blanket for the earth, but leaves me shivering in my pajamas. A rattling from the bones of the house, the smell of the heat kicking it, like dust burning, nothing serious. I tiptoed around the house tensely, as if it would make me warmer, finally found my slippers in the den, slipped them on with one pull of my finger to get them around my heels, ahhh. Like walking on pillows, but no one yells at you to get your feet off the pillows. As they warm my feet, the heat migrates up through my body, slowly, drenching each inch of me in heat, like a kid peeing himself silently on the playground, though that warmth be tragic and damning. This warmth is the purest comfort, perfection as the coffee begins to brew, warming my soul, the winter birds, though they be few, begin to chirp, a cat gently pads his way down the hall, with built in slippers, the distant sound of cats cleaning themselves. A lone cockroach scurries across the floor, he must be cold and scared, alone. As a kid, I would play with, our house had to many. We would make dares to pet them, and the ensuing screams would scare him off, leaving us to wonder if we'd find him snuggled up in our beds later.
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