Alter Egos: Bertha
She no longer looked like an old woman and she no longer lived in a shoe. She wished the images of all those children sitting in that Oxford work boot would leave her mind. Was someone following her? Why did she never feel like she was alone? She held up her shiny apple, casually, as if to admire its brilliance, and was able to see behind her in the reflection. Was that the same apple that had been behind her at the bus stop?
Meanwhile, the boot bag gazed pensively into the distance. She had been in love with the right boot for years…Mr. Right. Only twice in all that time had they touched. But the left boot, oh how she hated that left boot. He looked at her all day long. Tried to peek inside every time Ms. unzipped her. And at night, somehow he managed to land between her and Mr. Right every single night. What a heel.