The Martin Boot that Puffes 英语美文.docVIP

The Martin Boot that Puffs by A.L.Locklin 15/3/16 Nothing annoyed me so much as concern over the state of human existence and my pair of martin boots that is black, kneel-high, gleaming in the sunlight. It is supposed to be a pair of handsome shoes; I would have put those on, strolling the street like I was some model coming out of a fashion poster. However, it was kept shelved in my shoe cabinet since my first trial with it. I could still recall my excitement when I put those on and the embarrassment when I tried those on--the students heads turned the moment my shoes stepped into the library and farted its way across those bookshelves. Then that night, I was obliged to accept the bleak facts that there was nothing wrong with it. No holes. No breach. It just puffs. Ever since then, I had been conscious not to choose it under any circumstances. However, today is the tomb-sweeping day and the martin boot is far superior to the best shoes of choice--for one, it is no doubt of fashion and for the other, its thick patent leathery skin can shield me from the thorns of the overgrown tangled weeds. Therefore, I gallantly put those on and merrily enjoy the moment of being next to the imminent termination of anonymity. Then I take a deep breath. Heave a sigh. Tighten my calf muscles. Lift my heels off the ground. And tiptoe out. The sun is pouring down a yellow spring ray, sunlight flickering through the leaves on my shoes; it feels like my shoes are as much beaming as mocking me for my struggling. It is light outside but only few people ahead. Even so, I am grateful for the passing cars to swallow the noise of my shoes that bears affinity to leaking gas every time I plant my feet on the ground. Halfway through the road to my dads, I have been tiptoeing. As I smile a little at the thought that perhaps I might best a thief on the sneaking in or out competition after todays trial, I finally come to the underground station which appears to be the greatest challenge: the pla