Shaking raindrops from his red jacket, he drapes it on a hook to dry and closes the door behind him.
A few moments for idle thoughts. He flicks on the lights, puts on some Mozart, opens his notebook and pen pauses over paper...
What does success look like, he wonders? Is it riches and glam? Accolades and fame? Love and marriage? Truth and wisdom?
He smiles and writes...
"Sneakers kicked off at the back door with laces still tied loosely."
Posts
As an avid sneaker wearer, I relate. I don't know if they = success in general, but they do for my feet!
ReplyDeleteI had you figured for being sneaky Patricia, in a good way of course...
ReplyDeleteTHAT is Success!!!!!
ReplyDeleteYou said it brutha...
ReplyDeleteI'm a pump, pearls, perfume kinda gal. What are sneakers? Sounds exotic. Can my pumps play footsies with your sneakers?
ReplyDeleteMy dear, my sneakers are too fatigued to footsie... although they were once famous for a fantastic fandango!
ReplyDeleteSigh! Pumps are lonely. Do you think it's because they're snobs? They don't want to be. They're just born with demure heels...
ReplyDelete