Peek-A-Boot
I am incarcerated for life in a small cell situated at ground level behind the inside wall of a busy restaurant. I must lie permanently on my belly looking out through a small, iron grille at the feet of the female restaurant’s customers whilst they relax and enjoy their food and drink. The cell is called a ‘Peek-A-Boot’, though it could equally be called a ‘Peek-A-Shoe’; or a ‘Peek-A-Sock’; or a ‘Peek-A-Heel’; or a ‘Peek-A-Sneak(er)’! That’s because I now have to spend every waking hour of my life staring at and admiring the backs of ladies’ feet and footwear, through the tiny grille which provides the only light into my cell. It also provides the only air into my cell, so even the air that I breathe is fragranced by feminine footwear odours. Most of the restaurant’s female customers are probably unaware of my male presence, lying behind their pretty feet under the table, as they enjoy their snacks and beverages. If they are aware, they are unconcerned –