Here is another story written by my loyal follower Sebastian :) Please forgive any grammar mistakes, english is not his native language and I didn't have the time to correct it. Enjoy and feel free to leave some comments ;)
 

 
The summer holidays have ended, summer has ended, and another academic year has begun. For a short period of time, I walked down the street looking for what people were wearing. Or maybe more specifically; what shoes they put on their feet. More than once I wondered if it was strange that my sight was directed at someone's feet in the first place. I didn't know a single person who has a similar case to mine. Am I really a freak? Do I look like that? Are there any signs of that? Somehow no one paid any attention to me as I looked ahead, walked with my head down, or crouched down to tie my shoes. I can already imagine the reaction of friends or family when I tell them that I like to stare at someone's shoes. It is not the same as watching sunsets, mountains, sitting on a bench, and staring at a fountain or pond. No wonder I try to keep it a secret.

Autumn progressed - the leaves fell from the trees, people started to wear warmer clothes, and there were fewer of them in the streets or parks. The children went to school, everyone had less time for themselves. It touched me too. I hoped that I would still have something to look at, to remember, before the snow fell, it would be cold for good. Or worse - they will lockdown us again.

For now, I have stopped visiting the forum. Somehow the forum members stopped writing or rarely posted their stories. Even No. 1 showed no sign of life. I also remember one story told by No. 3 ( SEE MORE "Unnamed Story"). A cousin of his sister once had to wear high heels, and since she did not have any herself, she borrowed from her. The size was different by only one number (36, cousin 37). Somehow she slipped them on her feet, added an insole to not feel any looseness, and went where she had to. Afterward, she told her that they were such a nightmare that she would never wear them again. She said she sometimes wobbled on them, tripped or almost fell. She was also heelpopping. Her sister said to her: "You just don't know how to walk in them". Cousin of his sister wanted to walk back barefoot, but since it was wet, an undeveloped area, and was getting darker, she walked about 8 kilometers in those shoes, taking breaks every now and then. Well, it seems not all women are born to walk in such shoes.

I have not seen this woman for a long time. I was wondering how she was doing, where I could find her and what she wears, and so on. I never saw her in winter or autumn. I still have the photos and videos I took. She was truly the unique woman I ever met. Who would have thought that she enjoys shoeplaying so much or heelpopping, and does not even pay attention when her shoes fall to the ground. None of my female colleagues at the university had anything like that (even Sophie). Sure, since this academic year there were some who wore white socks to black pantyhose (a bit comical looking if you ask me), one rarely wore black moccasins with a gold buckle, but nothing else. I tried to find "the shoeplay lady" in the places where I met her (except there where I take a round trip with a ship across the Seine), but was unsuccessful. Ironically, I did not remember exactly her face. Skinny feet, distinctive shoes, always an ankle gold bracelet, often blue jeans or suit pants, blonde hair, but nothing else. I hope Lucas didn't get her and humiliate her even more.

It was strange too; I could not track Lucas either. I still remember his devilish laughter as he humiliated the woman. He was having a lot of fun. At the time, I wanted nothing more to do with him, but something happened that I began to change. Somehow, I did not have any resistance to making fun of this woman, when we finished the trip across the Seine. Maybe I just wanted to be myself, at last, not to feel constrained, to overcome any obstacles in my way, yet continue to watch myself. Lucas then promised me that we would meet again, and I would be happy about it. "Men can meet, but mountains never" - an old line, and how true. One does not know the day or the hour, the minute or the second of unexpected events. I hope that if this meeting even happens, it will be under pleasant circumstances. After all, Lucas is a bastard.

I was also concerned about the photo I received from No. 1. Another person who had a waiter friend who had encountered "the shoeplay lady" shoes. That she has a reputation and is simply known for her behavior is an indisputable thing. But it appears to be her shoes, that bothered me. I don't doubt that everyone likes to immortalize a moment in their lives, share it or just make fun of something. It is still best to get likes, points, or whatever to make people want to watch, read, comment and share. But could it have been Lucas? So many questions, but no answers.

I was in the university library recently. There are lots of tables on the second and third floors where you can sit and write on your own laptop, for example. There is always someone sitting there, no matter if it is a boy or a girl. Rarely it is my lecturers. One day I saw a young female student enter a large room where books can be taken from the shelf, but not all of them can be borrowed. I was going there anyway, and the sight of her shiny black shoes encouraged me more. Before I walked through the door, I saw out of the corner of my eye two other girls sitting at a table. They were doing something on their laptops, their booties were under the table, and they were exposing the soles of their socked feet.

When I walked in, I started looking for this student. She must have disappeared behind the bookcases somewhere. I walked slowly, looking left and right to spot her. The carpet greatly muffled the sound of my footsteps. I walked for a long time, passing desks with computers until I passed the last one. Did she go upstairs? ~ I thought. It was possible, there was a staircase inside that led directly to the next floor, and continued to cover the same room. However, I did not need to check, because I spotted brown long hair between the books. She was in the law book section. I took out my cell phone in advance, turned on the hidden camera, put it to my knee, and slowly walked towards her.

First I was behind a bookcase to get a closer look at what she was doing. She was looking for something. There were books related to the civil code. She could indeed be a law student. I walked between the bookcases where she was. I held the cell phone horizontally in both hands, at rib height. I pretended to look for some book. She was standing sideways to me, wearing a white blouse, a black small purse, black pants, and black suede moccasins on her bare feet. Strange she was allowed to enter with the purse; it's forbidden in this very room. But it did not last long, because she immediately passed me by. I thought she would return, so I stood in the same place, but my head was watching her.

She was heading for the exit. I stood behind the bookcase at the nearest computer desk, watching her walk through the door and disappear behind the glass. I turned off the filming, thinking she might go up a floor. I used the stairs upstairs and waited for a while behind some bookcase, but she did not come. As I watched the film later, I managed to film her for only 4 seconds before she moved. I wasn't pleased with myself. Did I scare her? I wasn't looking at her, I had the lens pointed at knee and leg height. It's possible that she didn't find what she was looking for, so she just left.

I quickly pulled some book from the bookcase and, leaning against it, sat down. I was heartbroken that I hadn't been able to do anything more. It was a symbol for me that the unwritten rule of wearing beautiful women's shoes ends this year. The coming winter, the coming cold days would become suffering. I was not reassured when a female librarian walked in front of me twice. There were black socks sticking out from under her blue jeans, but it wasn't until the second time, when the bright light fell on her, that I noticed I was wrong. They must have been pantyhose or stocking socks because the material shone through, and human skin could be seen.

I put the book back on the shelf and left the room. Going downstairs, the girls who were sitting at the tables were no longer there. I passed the anti-theft gates, picked up my backpack, and sadly left the library. A chilly wind forced me to look up. Among the falling leaves, sunlight was breaking through from behind the clouds. It was not cold, and this cheered me up. But still did not answer my question: am I strange?

No comments

Leave your comment

In reply to Some User