Last night I went for a walk.
I was going to walk on this nice path, but it was getting dark and the path gets kind of creepy at night.
By kind of creepy, I mean creepy people come out at night.
Also? It is dark there.
Anyways.
So, I walked the track by the gym.
Many, many times.
It was great.
The sun was setting.
A gentle rain was falling.
I had good music going in my ears.
It was fantastic.
I was wearing flip flops, so my feet were a little sore… no big deal.
I took them off at one point – threw them in the grass and ran the track barefoot.
Sometimes I like to do that. 
I got half way around the track and had to stop running.
I am not a runner.
But things were still good.
I get back around to where my flip flops are, put them on, and continue walking.
I walk around the track a few more times.
Then decide my feet really hurt and maybe it would help if I took off my flip flops again.
There are people around.
I take off my flip flops, toss them in the grass, and decide to run.
I think I ran for about 5 seconds and decided my feet were angry.
They were so mad.
They hurt ridiculously.
It was ok though.  So I go back over and grab my flip flops and smile at the people who I just passed 10 seconds earlier.
I put the flip flops back on and decide to walk some more.
“No really”, my feet say, “we hurt!”
They were very angry feet.
Ok, ok.
So I turn around and pass by the same people again all in a matter of a minute and a half. 
I smile at them, again, and walk back to the dorm.
Things are still good.
I get back to the dorm and go up to the third floor to my room.
I go in the door, take off my flip flops, and sit.
I look at my flip flops.
Sigh.
I was wearing two different flip flops.

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