On the walk to The Palace yesterday, I was confounded by the discovery of a pair of shoes. At first I thought, "Joan Crawford, Come Fuck Me Pumps", but immediately realized that they were more "Mamie Van Dooren Let Me Blow You Heels". They made my mind rush. What was more disturbing: Finding one shoe or a matching pair? Was this woman swept off her feet or in the trunk of a car? If I tried them on would I be blessed with magical powers or labelled as "cheap"? Thoughts swirled around my mind. I could hear Hastings saying, "Well, old chap. Maybe she didn't fancy them anymore." And I would say, "Hastings, the Woman, she fancies nothing more than the foot."


It was cryptic; the toes pointed toward the ocean. This was--to me--the great Payless crop circle. Was she forced by demons to pull a Virginia Wolff, or did a great sea monster snatch her with its tentacles and pull her to sea? With all that was going down, I could not delve any further into a mystery that only asked, "Are you better off now, than four years ago?" Life is crazy.