Regular customer Ms Mukta madam looks particularly fetching this afternoon in her red tracksuit as she walks confidently towards me through the weeds. As she stops in front of me, in preparation for having her white sneakers kissed as per usual, she notices a pink bruise on my forehead. She laughs and asks me how I came to have it? I humbly apologise to her for my unsightly appearance and explain that a bunch of hoodlums had beaten me up and kicked me in the face.
She laughs at me again and says I must have deserved it. She then stretches forth her right sneaker and orders me to kiss it. It's only when she does so that I can see she is wearing pure, white socks inside her sneakers.
I feel truly humbled and kiss her feet with the slavish fervour they deserve.
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| The familiar form of Ms Mukta madam approaches me through the weeds |
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| I admire her red tracksuit out of the corner of my bruised eye |
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| She kindly enquires about the bruising on my face, and laughs when I explain how it happened |
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| She then, unsympathetically, orders me to kiss her feet |
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| It's only now that I get to see her white socks |
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| I feel humbled by the sight of the sock... |
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| ...the white sock of a tracksuited goddess! |
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| She switches feet to ensure my slavish respect for BOTH her sneakers and socks! |
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| Contrast, if you will, my bruised and damaged face with her perfect sock! |
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| Ms Mukta believes I deserve my beating at the feet of the hoodlums... |
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| ...so deserve it I did! |
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| Her sock is always right! |
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| Her sock is better, and more intelligent, than me! |
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| My lowly, head-on view of her superior sock! |
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| She turns to leave, chuckling at my ongoing pain and distress |
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| My suffering amuses her |
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| And rightly so, for I'm just a slave. I am meant to suffer for her delectation and entertainment... |
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| ...since she, along with her socks, is my better! |
