[boot]: any shoe or outer foot covering reaching to the ankle.

When I am walking down the long corridors in the jail you can hear me from a mile away.  My feet clomp up and down like thunder, except in constant rage than every few minutes. It is intense and loud and above all, my signal to the world.

“We can always tell when you are coming,” say my coworkers

I do waste a lot of my time looking at shoes, and the people in boots are a special breed.

You can usually tell where people work by the shoes they wear. Boot people are the ones that are the rough and tumble bunch. The gang that drinks their coffee black and has their cans of energy drink for a desert.

They are the ones with their boots that walk trough the urine from that guy over there, or the food that was thrown on the floor from a temper tantrum. They walk on shredded glass from television sets and broken windows and their boots see it all; getting their face rode all up and down the corridor.

In the middle of the morning the walkers of the boots pull out their snacks. They have to keep their bodies in shape for all of the things they have on the bottom of their shoes, they live in a life as soon as they walk into the building that they will never know how their day is about to begin.

The boot wearers come early in the morning to go to the gym and get those reps in. They kiss their lunch goodbye to lift some metal above their heads, and instead of running to the train they take a few laps on the machine that never stops rolling forward.

Like the machine, they just go and go and go.

Never knowing what it going to happen next.

The mornings get darker now, and they still drag themselves through the door with a bag full of food like a mother that is taking her kids away on a picknick. Nothing is to be forgotten.

I remember once watching someone thrown their shoe on the ground after they were fighting an inmate in an elevator.

She looked angry and furious as the show was flying down to the floor.

She came by later that day and pointed at her shoes,

He bit me on the foot!” she said with a smile on her face “This would have never happened if I would have had my boots on!”

I looked down at me feet. I had left that all behind me to spend my days behind a computer, but for some reason I always have the wrong shoes on.

Those boots.






Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s