This is What Scares Me - Anne Wright

Black oxfords on old women, you know the ones: thick stable rubber soles, round toes, hefty laces. The kind of shoes that hide twisted toes and bunions. Tops that come up just a little too high and press into the swollen ankle flesh. The kind of shoes that hide feet that once were smooth and pink, with perfect arches as high as a bridge and pretty painted nails in the season’s new color. The kind of shoes that took the place of the curvy pointy stilettos that helped reach up to kiss him are now grounded black oxfords, flat on the floor, helping the feet along, carrying the awkward body as it trudges along in its aged gait.