Edi in the Shoe Store

When we finally reached the plateau, after scaling the muddy walls, I discovered that my shoes were all worn out and when the water from the slipstream spilled out between my feet, the cold gravel, rough sand sailed through the holes in my shoes.

Inside i knew my feet would be bleached white from the salt, and exhaustion soon would give me those wretched cramps. But we'd have to soldier on as our grey leader had once pronounced.

To my right was the Bata shop with the soles and the leather shoes all laid out. I entered the parched store with my companions about me... but there were hardly any shoes to be had in the dusty interiors. Through the door beyond the cashier's desk were Hopper-like automobiles, the salon, and the sedan, the red Alfa Romeos with their bonnets pointing in parallel to other shores - like Mama Joe’s 70's garage.

I picked up a brown pair and kneeled to try them on, but then took them away deeper into the private depths of the shoe store-vault. Now grown more used to the light, as I peered into the dark heavy shelves, I discovered to my amazement that heaven help the poor soul who soldiered to this plateau to be shod to his heart's delight - no weathered leather decorates the teak and the deadwood.

Books! I cried hoarsely as the dust came away in clouds choking me... Chaucer’s England, The Revolt of the Humphries Catalysmied, Ploughshares of the Sixteenth Century, Emile, The Degenerate's Quandrum, Poker, Pigs and Pans. In tatters lay the moth eaten yellow pages of the chroniclers of the past; dispatched to dust were the words gathering weight while the wood sagged to contain the edification of the continents. That blew my mind, my soul flagged weary as I pushed out of the dreary darkness to rush towards gilded morning bells.

[24.02.2006]