Mangled Shoes

Part title

You see, as flawed humans, we are always projecting our ideas of the ideal, but is the ideal truly reachable? Before you eventually run out of air, how far can you run?

The ceilings were swarming with voices asking all kinds of inquiries that went unanswered. This sixteen-year-old—what on earth was going through her mind? Did she truly lose her mind? What if the result of all this turmoil was something positive? She could learn to forgive herself without having to run away from home.

Deborah had been tossed to and fro. Until she was proven innocent, she was guilty. both guilty of murder and of defying social customs. Shunned by shame and guilt and possessed by an ailing soul, how do you manage to walk up right after committing such a terrible crime?

How do you face the world after breaking the Laws of Moses when you are unable to communicate with your creator? Was God the source of this newfound spirit? It was impossible to carry the load. A weight so great that the refiners' fire was required They dubbed him the God of the Living.

But where was he? God, through it all, where was He? How was she supposed to miss him?

"For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus, our Lord."

They had already heard sermons and church crusaders discuss this. Still, hearing was insufficient on its own. A replacement was required, and that was the word and faith. For if someone had no faith, the message would merely go through one ear and out the other.

'Nap-time' for Deborah was gone. She awoke from an unsettling dream. What was the true meaning of this recurrent dream? She would run home, God willing, and they would all rejoice at "the return of the lost child."

After exiting the bedroom, she moved into the living room, grabbed the remote control, and turned on the TV. She browsed through channels 102, 156, and 302. At 303, she finally gave up.

Disney Channel. She was obviously still a youngster at heart. Goom heard what sounded like a children's choir singing in their living room, so he got out of bed. Complete bewilderment ensued. In actuality, it was already late evening, even if it felt like early morning.

He made his way to the door. He reached into his trucksuit pants and removed his phone. He was fully clothed in an "addidas kit." A pop-up notification flashed on his phone as he looked down. It was time for another sunrise session with the goons.

"These cursed noctyrnals sleep all day and party all night," he said in a high-pitched voice.

"Debbie. My friend, how are you doing?"

Yes, indeed. I am good. Are you straight?

"Obviously, bruhh, I'm straight. How would you put it?"

They chuckled.

"I'll be better after I pour myself a glass of congnac," Goom then declared. Do you want to try some for yourself?"

"Yes, I see. Why not? Isn't that the price of freedom?"