I’m thinking about my toes. The color of the polish I’m currently wearing is a metallic red that looked like swirls of red and pink and orange with glitter in the bottle, but on the nail, dry, it looks softer, somehow. It’s a very blue red, despite the pink, and it makes my skin look tanner than it really is.

I came home with sunburnt shoulders and tanned feet. There are sandal straps. Truly the rest of me looks sunkissed as well, but not in the same way. I’ve always hated my feet but lately I’ve come to like them quite a lot.

I’m thinking of the pedicure I’m having tomorrow. Pedicures are lovely, but the bottoms of my feet are extremely ticklish, and that makes getting a pedicure a bit of a challenge. I feel like a little kid when my feet are tickled, but what’s worse is that there’s this line connecting my feet to the pleasure center of my brain, and when I’m not in a pedicure chair and my feet are tickled there’s a completely different reaction.

I’m thinking of sleep, and clean feet and cool sheets and summers at my grandparents. The scent of sundried cotton surrounds me and firefly glow softens the darkness and I tumble into dreamland.