“I slipped into a pair of Priscilla’s shoes. They were in the closet, way in the back. They looked like they were a pair of white sandals I used to wear. Instead, I put on these soft, white leather shoes, flats with small, satin-embroidered oval openings just over the toes, very feminine. Priscilla bought them when she was coming to terms with herself as a woman. What surprises me is that the shoes fit me. Priscilla wears at least one size smaller. Now I’m worried my feet are shrinking, or maybe... I’ve lost so much weight it’s affected my feet. Everyone says the divorce has been good for me. I look sexy again. I can feel my hip bones, something I was forgetting I owned. My shoulders are taking form, the bones curving into smooth muscles, and my legs are getting skinnier than I want them to get. But my feet? I wear Priscilla’s shoes to school that day just to prove to myself that I can. It’s strange to walk around in somebody else’s shoes, it makes you wonder if you could ever live out that person’s life, or if you would want to.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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