I am bare feet, slipping hurridly out of my shoe entrapments to escape the claustrophobia. I dig my toes into the soil so I can better feel all I walk on. Sometimes I feel too much—a jagged rock that slices the meat of my heel with a hiss, the sting of a thorn that wedges wickedly underneath a nail. But I walk farther on, directionless, with the knowledge that I’ll soon grow callouses to combat the shifting terrain. With each step I feel the kiss of the world grace me, and though I am uncertain about my destination, the freedom of walking with out restrictions keeps me trotting forward.
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