You barely had time to steady yourself before Satori sighed and guided her white-socked foot back into the slipper. The thin fabric clung damply to her toes as they settled just above you. (3/7)
“Stay there. I’m reading.”
The lining was flattened from years of use, the insole still faintly damp from her foot, and the stale smell trapped in the fabric made it painfully clear this wasn’t a place meant for guests. (2/7)