sat scraping the dried mud off your boot with your knife as the sun
slowly set above. You could not help but admire the sky above; the
horizon a faint shade of gray tinged with pink as the pale moon began
to show its face. It had been a long day of walking and you had
nearly lost one of your boots to the deep muds you had trekked
stood and kicked your toe against a tree, trying to knock of the last
of the muck. You knew your boots were not going to make it much further but
having an extra layer would not help you stay upright. As of late, it
seemed as if you were falling more than often; not that it was
entirely your fault.
…. it sure wishes it was the lucky bootfag being fed the muck from those boots …. and it’s still early in the day …. until then, it can drool in its cage and think about the goodies it may find under the soles ….