Roommates

I am going to buy an expensive pair of boots. I have been visiting them for days. They live in a little shop on Willienstrasse. But I can just picture them as my new roomates. I think we would be a perfect match. How do they look, you ask? Black and sleek...but a little rough. The leather is pinched just enough to differentiate them from all the other smooth finishes out there. It is more about what I just know they will feel like when I slip them on. I have already been introduced to expensive boots and I don't think it will be easy to explain what it feels like to slide your feet into these pieces of artwork. They glide past your foot and ankle and grab onto your claves like a perfectly smooth and confident man's handshake. Not too tight but enough to make you meet his eyes as you feel the corners of your mouth turn up. Then there is the way you feel strutting around town with these indulgent fabrics supporting and protecting you as you make your way. You meet the eyes of each man passing you and smile confidently at the women admiring your style. Best of all, when you pass a mirror you stare for an extra second trying to place the familiar looking girl in the glass... Oh yeah, that is me in my dream world...boots included.