Sunday, January 23, 2011

In The Donut Shop

Sitting at the bar disappointed with the day-old-donut taste of the glazed Dunkin Donut on my plate, I watched out the window. The little shop itself sat half under ground and so I only saw shoes, calves, and hems. I smiled as a pair of zebra print shoes with a bright red three inch heel clicked by.  I could always recognize Sylvia by her sexy and completely inappropriate shoes on the Chicago streets.

*** Daily Writing Practice ***


  1. We all have one of those friends, don't we? My feet hurt just watching my friend walk in her stilletos! You painted this scene so well!

  2. I am that friend as often as I can be, which sadly isn't that often.