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It was time to kick off her shoes. Though the shoes were confident and classy, they had gotten smaller over time, and now they blistered her heels and bit her toes. Her feet were locked in and slowly dying. The arch had gone from support to prison guard. It was time. But taking them off was not without pain, either. There was reluctance to let go. It was as if her feet had forgotten how to move by themselves. Her toes didn’t know how to wiggle anymore. How to connect to the earth. How to be part of her.


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