March 31, 2004

I biked in the rain yesterday and arrived at school wet and breathless to find Trevor crouched at the top of the stairs, waiting to see Dr. Faflak.

“You need to come see me,” he told Trevor earlier, so I took off my wet shoes and socks and waited by Trevor’s side until we grew restless and left a note on the door. “We’re in the torque room for now. In five years, who knows?!”

I followed Trevor shoeless through the hallways in search of coffee, and when we returned later the note was gone. Dr. Faflak was in his office, somewhat amused by us, somewhat annoyed by things I’ve written, somewhat unsure of what we were doing.

There was no weeping and gnashing of teeth, and I was relieved when he pleasantly kicked us out after we chatted about art and our lives. He had essays to mark.

“Can we help?” I asked.

“I’d let you but you’d blog all about it,” he laughed. I skipped out of his office still shoeless and spent the rest of the day running around in my bare feet, my socks left out to dry.

Without my shoes I could suddenly leap over entire flights of stairs. People were intrigued and compassionate. Shirley woke me up by gently blowing air in my face and asked me about my shoes. Zorianna let me keep the pair of socks she lent me. Heather suggested I should leave dry clothes at her place in the future. Nobody stepped on my toes.

People are lovely when you take your shoes off. I shall do it more often.