A foot fetish explained.

I, like a lot of people come from a broken home

But ours didn't break when the old man left

It broke much much later than that.

When the old man left things were hard

Mum worked in bars and pubs, did cleaning; anything she could find to keep us.

We lived in a one bedroom flat

Mum slept on the sofa in the living room

My sister and I slept in the same bed in the tiny bedroom

Head to toe.

I spent twelve years in that bed with my sister

Head to toe

I came to know her feet intimately

I knew every inch, every pore, every crease, every nail, every callous.

I learned to tell the seasons by the colour of her toes

I learned to tell her moods by the colour of her polish

I loved her feet

They were the first thing I saw in the morning

The last thing I saw at night.

We did everything in that bed together

Head to toe

Homework, super Nintendo, reading, hobbies, laughing, crying

I taught her to whistle

She taught me to knit.

I gave her hand knitted socks each Christmas

She whistled in admiration.

She taught me chiropody

I taught her reflexology

I gave her pedicures for her birthday

She cured my acne

I loved her feet.

Then one day, mum was out and that awful thing happened

The police called

There had been an accident, a girl , thought to be my sister had been knocked down by a truck

Would I go, in my mothers absence

To identify the body.

At the hospital the body was still in a bed covered by a sheet.

The doctor pulled back the sheet to reveal the dead girls head.

I exhaled with relief and said: No this is not my sister

My sisters head is at the other end of her body.

She never did come home though. Not after that.

But I found comfort in her shoes.