I had looked on at a spry young girl as she groomed a pony. We were all there to admire the pony and, as well, the young owner who wore a pink and white dress with a stiff petticoat underneath. She had on opaque white leggings and her feet were adorned with small black and white patent shoes; the kind with a buckle that ladies used to wear for golfing. The entire time I could not help but not take my eyes off those shoes. I wanted to hold them in my hands and then beat the soles together to hear what kind of noise they would make. I imagined the noise would be very gratifying--the kind of noise that one would hear as a stock sound-effect in the movies--but instead of grabbing the little girl's feet and pulling off her shoes so that I could beat the soles together, I remained firmly anchored inside the crowd of spectators and we all politely looked on at this pastoral scene.

--Julia Girardi, 6 March 2010