It was a small dull black ankle boot. Sitting on my window sill. Slightly pointed toe, 4 inch stilleto heel and 8 hole lace up at the front. Why was it on my window sill to greet me this morning?
I left my small, cluttered, front room, went into the little shower room and had a quick shower. The estate agent called it a bathroom but it wouldn't fit even the shortest bath. It had just enough space for a shower cubicle, toilet and sink.
Drying off my hair as I moved about I couldn't help but look at the boot. Just sitting there. I quickly threw on some shorts and a t shirt then opened the front door reached round and grabbed the boot.
I sat in my favourite chair and inspected it close up. It was warn, well made. The soft kidd leather wrapped the boot with the only seams being under the arch and down the stem of the heel. Under the arch I could see the leather had once been highly polished, not a patent leather finish just well burnished. There was the slight smell of peppermint foot spray over the leather but no other foot scents.
I sat back and looked out the window. My half buried basement flat gave me a great view of the shoes and boots on feet passing by as they took the short cut past my terrace between Main Street and the side entrance of the train station.
I'd bought the one bedroomed basement flat in a prime location with the hope it would give a central base on the edge of an affluent shopping district where I could get a job. There were also some good pubs and clubs within staggering distance. The inheritance from my Dad had been just enough, after selling the old family home. City prices turned a four bedroom detached into a 1 bed flat but it was enough for me, I hoped. No mortgage meant I would just have to cover bills and food. Leaving what few friends I had behind. It was a new start where no one knew me or my family name.
Work had been patchy and I only managed to get some seasonal shop assistant roles. I'd tried my luck at bar jobs but a lack of behind the bar experience killed that idea. I was no specimen to work as a bouncer.
The small income I did get had been just enough though. This all meant I ended up spending quite a bit of time in my chair watching the shoes and boots go by while there was light. I hadn't seen a boot like my recent arrival for a couple of years. Not the current "in" style. I wondered, How did a person loose 1 boot? How had it ended up perfectly balance 4 feet from the pavement through railings and across the open dry space, on my window sill in need of a little care and attention the owner obviously hadn't given it?
With nothing better to do, I pulled out my shoe cleaning equipment and began to care for the boot. First, I removed the thin round leather lace, hardly warn and still with a polished finish. It slipped cleanly through my soft cloth as I checked for any damage. The lace holes showed some stretching and the tongue underneath had a scuffed bit down its centre. It didn't look like normal wear and tear, almost like a fluid had been spilt over it but never cleaned properly. I gave it a quick wipe. I then used the soft cloth to wipe around the sole to remove some small crystal like grit.
As a child my parents told me nothing brought out a shine like spit, polish and elbow grease. I didn't want to disrespect the boot so it would be lick, polish and elbow grease. I prepared by opening the black polish tin, set it on the coffee table in front of me. Taking the boot carefully in both hands I raised it up, after a reverential pause I leant forward and kissed the toe. I gave a small moan of joy as the soft leather met my lips. So soft. A quick pull back and couple of nervous swallows to reduce the growing saliver. I hesitantly opened my mouth and lightly licked the soft leather from tip to lace holes across the vamp. So soft and sensual. The taste was slightly salty, slightly musky but all leather. After a few strokes I paused then reach for the soft cloth. I put my finger into the corner of the cloth, rubbed it into the polish then lifted up to the toe of the boot. I rubbed in small circular motions across the damp toe, working the polish into the leather. After a few circles more fluid was needed. This time the licks had the waxy flavour of polish as a main taste but it wasn't too bad.
