Reflection of feet

On a shore far away, gently foamed waves lapped against her course and callused feet. They were beautiful feet. Un-manicured and clean; they held the simple beauty of utility.

They had taken her to rocky places that burned her soles under the power of the sun. On muddy ground they were front-liners; cautiously sinking into the ground, searching for hidden dangers. In narrow places her right leg beckoned the left with each reassuring step. Over steep hills, her heels had a higher calling; over high walls her toes bore her brunt.

Now by this shore, she knew they had served her well. Gratitude for their resilience washed over her. She let them rest; allowing the sand to pull them into a full embrace. They felt comfortable. They were at rest. There would come a time when they would return to the cuddle of the earth; to roll in the sheets of ages. Then in the stillness of their slumber they would finally be released from their bond with her.

Now, she releases the earth and turns away from the shore. Sand stuck stubbornly to every surface and crevice but she didn’t mind. Her feet could use a scrub. Besides, there were miles yet to go and walking was the only way out.

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