“You’ve always told me that you wanted to smell my feet, why don’t you give them a sniff,” she said. “You’re joking right, what if some se...s or comes in,” I replied. “No one will, I’ve closed the shop. It’s always quite at this time, hurry up before I change my mind!” she said. I dropped to my knees, and she sat down on the bench in the cubical. I brought her feet to my nose and took a long sniff; it was heaven. Her feet smelled so beautiful, her sweat mixed her perfume. As I smelt her feet,. Then again, she might have held back because he was still small and skinny, either because of his age or because he shared more with their mother than just her freckles and wild frizzy hair. Perhaps when he got older, Bell would take their sibling rivalry to a whole new level. But for now she’d turn to her father, who reclined in his armchair by the fireplace. ‘Papa!’ ‘Yes, Isabell?’ his deep voice asked from behind his newspaper. ‘Nate tore my finger!’ Her father lowered his paper and blinked. More

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