"I think my feet are shrinking," she muttered, looking up at where she rested her soles against the wall. She laid on her back on the dark green couch, looking up at the ceiling, twisting a lock of her brown hair between the fingers of her right hand. Sunlight stealing in through the window struck the glass of water on the coffee table, casting a dancing reflection up onto the ceiling.

He looked up from his crossword as he sat in the rocking chair next to the couch. "They look the same to me."

"My shoes are too big." The light on the ceiling seemed to vibrate slightly, swaying this way and that. "They used to fit."

He suddenly leaned forward in the chair, scribbling something on the paper in his lap. "Almost got it," he grinned.

"Seriously." She rapped her heels against the wall. "Do feet shrink?" She pulled the hair to the corner of her mouth. "I know they swell." She listened to his pencil scratching across the surface of the paper. "I've never heard of them shrinking before."

The light danced before her eyes as the after