To Be Seen
Copyright© 2025 by Heel
Chapter 6
One morning, a knock came at her door.
It was the shoemaker. Not a delivery, not a neighbor, but a man whose shop specialized in custom footwear—sturdy boots, orthopedic designs, experimental soles. He had heard about her accident, about the difficulty she faced walking, and offered a solution: a more advanced shoe, tailored precisely to her unique needs.
She hesitated. Part of her resisted, thinking she didn’t deserve innovation or care for her crippled foot. But curiosity—and a quiet, stubborn hope—won. She agreed.
In the small workshop, the air smelled of leather, wax, and polish. The shoemaker gestured for her to sit and prepared to take meticulous measurements. He removed her sock, exposing her foot fully, and examined it with gentle, careful touches, pressing along the sole, the toes, and the remaining heel. Every movement was precise, attentive, as if he were reading her foot like a map, noting every curve, every line, every subtle angle.
He worked in silence at first, absorbed in the task.
Then, without warning, he spoke.
“Your foot,” he said quietly, almost to himself, “is ... impossibly elegant.”
She blinked, unsure she had heard correctly.
He looked up, meeting her eyes. “And beautiful. In a way I can’t explain. The structure ... the lines ... it’s remarkable. How it’s held together, even now. I’ve seen hundreds of feet like this, broken or fragile, but never ... never like this one.”
Her cheeks warmed. She felt an unfamiliar, delicate weight of emotion—surprise, embarrassment, pride—all tangled together. She had long believed her body unremarkable, ordinary, even unattractive. Yet here, in the careful hands of someone who worked with form and function every day, her crippled foot was extraordinary.
He measured again, tracing her toes with precision, pressing gently along the ruined heel and the curved sole to understand how the shoe should flex. “This shoe will support your weight perfectly,” he said. “Better than anything else. You’ll be able to walk, step, flex ... in a way that feels natural—even with your heel gone.”