these feet were made for walking

dear you,

a month ago: around ten fifteen in the evening i'm briskly walking back from dollop, talking on the phone. i step in something kinda squishy, but don't care. it's probably just mud from the previous rain. upon returning to the flat, i realize that a sour stench won't leave my nose. i turn over my foot and there it is: dog poop.

this afternoon: around one thirty in the afternoon i'm briskly walking back from the griffin centre, talking to a friend. i step in something white, but don't care. it's probably a painted circle indicating a pipeline. after realizing that my toes are moist and gooey, i look back and there it is: human puke.

two very different cities.

two very similar scenarios.

two forms of "p" words leaving

two very opposite exits.

grossed out?

me too.

sincerely,

shae