WARNING: This post contains mild but medically justified expletives.
I’m standing on one leg in the M&S changing rooms. My other leg is bent. Both hands grasp the arch of my foot.
FUUUUHHHH-CCCCCKKK!
I hate it when this happens.
It’ll pass, I tell myself. It always does.
But it doesn’t. My toes cramp in a misguided Vulcan salute.
Curling, clenching, twist…
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