Dirty feet.

The tile floor gathers dust rather quickly in our large, fairly spacious kitchen and despite my best efforts to sweep at an almost compulsive rate the ubiquitous and ever present dust bunnies continue to congregate together at the bottoms of my feet. As I scrape my heels along the inner sides of my calves to remove the dirt, I feel a slight tickle resonate along the heels and balls of my feet, and a smirk tenderly forces itself upon my face, subtlety reminding me that we are all just people. People who go about our days gathering dirt, shedding off dust, tracking our steps from the outside world slowly into our home, where together we sweep behind our past hours and the pain caused by trying to forge our existence into this world. And together we cathartically exhale our days through noise assuring each other that dirty feet will always be welcome here.