No place like home

I had some free time.  Well, it was designated time, but in extenuating circumstances, it can be re-designated.  I make my own rules which means I can break them too.  So whilst the mission was too find lunch, the mission was also to feed my soul. And to me, that usually involves feeding my soles.

It was an honest adventure.  A short perusing – a simple survey of the landscape.  Before I knew it, I was holding in my hands the very pair of red shoes I had looked at 4 months ago, and 2 months ago, and 1 month ago, and 3 weeks ago.  Now they were marked 40% off.  I picked up the right shoe and clutched it tightly as I waited for the assistance of one of my favourite shoe salesmen in the city.

He had cut his hair since I was in last, and today he had on a great pair of square toed tan boots.  He looked cleaner and more put together than the last time I saw him. The last time I saw him, he helped my blue suede boots look cleaner and more put together – he helped me with cleaning tips.  They’re a new pair of boots now.
After what seemed like an eternity, I finally had the left shoe in my hand.  The second I put them on I knew, there was no place like home.  And a home is what I could provide them with.

I checked the time and realized I had 10 minutes to get to work.  Shoes in hand, I scrambled up the street.  Lunch? Who needs it?