I read a whole book on the flight to Florida. In one scene, the main character emerges out of a period of grieving and, as an outward manifestation of her re-embracing life, wears leopard shoes.
During the flight, the woman in front of me put her chair all the way back. I could have given her dental implants her head was so close to my lap. I hated her for ruining my flight. When we got to the luggage carousel, I noticed she was wearing leopard print loafers.
Wait. I'm not finished.
Get to the hotel room and start another book: Interpreter of Maladies. Well-written but the author is a bit of a Debbie Downer. In one of the short stories, one of the more stylish, flamboyant characters wears leopard print high heels to a party.
Now, this got me thinking. I have a pair of Ferragamo leopard print heels. Would they fit me now that I've lost almost 50 pounds?
Just as I'm getting excited thinking about steppin' out in my racy heels, I remember......I gave them away because they pinched my feet.
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