As a public humble-head slave I have absolutely no right to
look at, judge, or even think about my esteemed customers above their
ankles. Their feet, shoes and socks are my only legitimate, lowly sphere of influence
and must be the entire focus of my humble attention.
 |
| A bright young businesswoman makes her way with confidence towards me from across the square |
 |
| I must focus on her SHOES and SOCKS, as befits a public humble-head slave! |
 |
| Said SHOES and SOCKS duly stop in front of my face and give me a good long look at their BEAUTY and POWER |
 |
| Then the right LOAFER SHOE is unceremoniously shoved towards my menial mouth for default respect-kissing |
 |
| My humbling view of the customer-mistress's SHOE and SOCK |
 |
| And her other foot when it replaces the right one |
 |
| What I cannot see (and it's none of my damn business) is the pretty customer-mistress nonchalantly smoking a cigarette high above me |
 |
| All I can see (and smell) is her SHOELEATHER |
 |
| Plus, of course, I can see her SOCK |
 |
| I can even see the individual lines of STITCHING in the SOCK, so close is it to my face! |
 |
| Soon, all too soon, the SHOES and SOCKS turn their backs on me and walk away |
 |
| My even more humbling view of the backs of the pretty customer's SHOES and SOCKS! |
