She got measured, while Ihad to use trial and error. Many a pair of unworn shoes had found theirway into a used clothing bin as had wrong-sized slacks... blouses, skirts,and dresses.As she continued her spree, I thought about what four hundred odd dollarswould yield if I shopped at the booths at the flea market and the city'sthrift stores. It would have yielded sufficient items to swaddle me inblissful satisfaction for a great many months.Thoughts of the sacrifices and compromises that loomed on. ” She thought about it for a second but a sudden grin told me she had seen the funny side. She took hold of one boot, zipped up the side to form a tight seal around my nose and mouth, pressed it firmly against my face and said: “Smell my boot.” She wasn’t k**ding when she said they smelled bad. I didn’t think a woman’s boot could smell so strongly. Eventually she quit the game and pushed her boots onto my feet. With them both zipped up it was complete. The next morning I woke up again locked. More

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