I had a nice pair of sandals. Bought them at
Next, oh, some years ago, and although they weren't
particularly worn, I gave up wearing them because they had a fastening at the heel that I found increasingly difficult to get at as
my back became stiffer.
Yesterday I slipped them on
again, it being a sunny day, and went out to Newcastle with a pair of bags full of heavy books for Oxfam. Stepping off the bus in
town, I thought the heel of my left sandal seemed to be sloping the
wrong way. Also there seemed to be a lot of black crap sticking out from the
sole of the right one. I scraped it off and
It's only a few hundred yards
from the bus stop to the Oxfam shop, but by the time I got there, I could
hardly walk. I realised that the soles of both sandals were in a state if
disintegration. Handing over the two bags to the old bloke on the desk, I started to walk - hobble - out. He said, "You've dropped
something off your shoe."
"I know," I said,
"My shoes are falling apart. Sorry about that." I suppose he expected me to pick up the
piece of black crap, but in turning back to the door, the whole heel of the right shoe fell off.
I kicked it out the door and
limped across the road to the taxi rank. Ten quid to give some books away. Tsk.