A year ago at a party I was party to an effusive hug which ended in a fall, a stocking ripped at the toe, and a badly twisted ankle. Yesterday in the library wandering around without shoes I noticed a subconscious twinge in my ankle, a ghost-sprain, as it were, the slightest feeling of unease, the smallest worry fighting to escape the back of my mind. I looked down and saw the hole in the toe of my sock.
A strange sensation to be sure, but my young malleable consciousness has learned the lesson. Today I am wearing sturdy wool socks and my feet and mind are calm and warm and dry.
