A Boot Cuff Retreat

Mmph! I shuffled along the baseboard toward the tall shadow of a winter boot resting on the floor mat. Its thick rubber sole was cold, but the fleece trim folding over the collar looked dense and safe. With a muffled grunt, I grabbed the heavy shoelace and pulled myself up to peer inside the cavernous leather neck. Right between the fuzzy cuff and the tongue sat a dropped, smooth plastic bread clip. I paused wide-eyed, stared at it, then shoved it aside with one brown mitt. Wedging my back against the padded lining, I let out a resigned, muffled sigh. It fits.