Old friends, the time has come for us to part. I’ve worn you out, for all the times I’ve worn you out there working. Toes scuffed down to safety steel. Paint splattered on your desiccated uppers. How many laces did I break? Soles worn through completely like mine from time to time and me still standing on my own. We stood so much together, dizzy heights and mucky depths, laces wrapped twice tight around my ankles, knotted with a double bow. Adieu. Take your rest. You’re no good to me anymore. But I am good for something yet and I will do what I must do today. I bought myself a brand new pair of boots. ♠

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