“Pet Store” by Digi (a.k.a. Shoeleather)

        I watched how gracefully they swam behind the illuminated glass.  Back and
forth they went in a slow, but semi rhythmic pattern.  The walls of swirling
colors were amazing.  Hearing a splash I looked to see a lower tank being
invaded by a small hand.  What a mess.  Water was being thrown everywhere.
She slapped the water repeatedly, sending the fish in the nearby tanks into a
frenzy.  Before I could say anything a nearby female voice called out.  She
was an extremely attractive hour glassed twenty-something.  Her smooth,
shapely thighs seemed to bloom from the tightening material of her short black
skirt as she bent over to dry the girl’s hands.  As I admired her lovely
backside, she squatted down and showed the world to me - her cute, bare, round
heels as they rose off of her small shoes an rested against her settling
buttocks.  I immediately kneeled down as if to look at a lower fish tank.  The
semi-wrinked stretched skin of her sole flowed down into the front of her shoe
and disappeared into the darkness where her toes now took the burden of all
her balancing weight.  A scraping soon distracted me from the enticing vision
only three feet away.  It was the sound of her nails searching the floor.  One
by one her sculpted hands embraced the wriggling fish that had been thrown out
of the tank.  What it must have been like to be underneath her, seeing her
towering feet on either side of me, hearing her nails circling around me,
watching as her giant, smooth legs rubbed and shifted above me, light peaking
through her opening and closing thighs.  Oh what a sight.  Until, that is, she
finished.  She finished, and began to wipe the floor with a napkin from her
purse.  Wiping and not seeing that the fish that I had just imagined being was
still there, waiting patiently under her dark, perfumed shadow.  Forgotten.
As the last of the water was swabbed up by her graceful hand, the gasping fish
stared upward, through her slightly parted thighs at her beautiful face which
looked like an angel.  Her red hair, her fair skin, her - Slam!  Her milky
thighs closed again sending a rush of air over the now darkened fish.  A
moment later her sweet feet fell swiftly back into her shoes, ankles rocking
back and forth to balance her rising.  Without warning, her foot quickly rose
and shifted to the side, coming to rest directly on top of the wide eyed fish.
I watched as the exposed sides of her soles began to turn pale from the
intense pressure of her step.  As she talked to her daughter, I heard noting,
nothing but the brutal tearing of flattening flesh underneath tons upon tons
of a beautiful, otherwise caring, picture of womanhood.  She stood there for
an eternity, trying to reason with an arguing child, her shifting weight
turning the remains of life underneath her into a very thin paste.  After a
lengthy argument, she took a step forward.  Nothing remained on the floor as
her massive shoe eased forward.  With each seemingly innocent step towards the
exit, a small smudge could be made out as her foot would rise.  I followed her
out into the mall.  The almost inaudible squish slowly faded away as the day
went on.  Every 15 minutes or so she’d leave a fin, a scale, whatever couldn’t
be absorbed into the bottom of her shoe.