I think, I heard a whimper.

Monday morning, I was sitting and glancing through The Book Thief. I looked up to notice a woman teetering on velvet wrapped, black heeled boots. Her face reflected her discomfort. She huffed when she passed. I think, I heard a whimper.

I wiggled my nose, blinked my eyes, and spotted a man behind the check-out counter. He smiled at the woman, she frowned. After she put the books down on the counter, he complimented her on her fashion sense. He appreciated her coordinated outfit.

She stood taller with her shoulders back and strutted out the store.