If I had pointed feet I would slip them into green, ball-toed slippers and dance about with elves. Or I would launch off a teeter-totter onto the backs of wild circus broncos and stand atop beglittered saddles in shiny, sequined shoes. If I had pointed toes I would be the fiercest of all pirates, and kick sand in the face of death with my scuffed thigh-high boots. Or jest about in old English courtyards with purple booties up to my knees.
If I had a choice, I would not wear brown or tan or bland high-heeled shoes. I would wear orange and blue with kaleidoscope laces, and bells on my toes so you knew I was there. Or, I might sneak about in the moonlit night and leave only imprints that I’d tiptoed by. If we all had shoes we could be cowboys, or clowns, or fishers in waders, or basketball players…or regular boys.
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