Wart Souls
Burlington, Ontario
I hate to face it but there are about twenty-five planters’ warts that have taken hold of my left sole. When soaking my feet in water and submerging them for a good hour the crowns of the big and small toes appear to swell up to resemble cauliflower floweret’s. I had take a trip to the doctor in Burlington for his diagnosis. He had tackled my first wart ever in ‘96 on my first walking marathon, after a distance of 8,000 kilometers. Every other step on the right foot on that journey from the Pacific to the Atlantic was a step on a wart, which is a soul taken birth as a virus. It is a rather loathsome birth, wouldn’t you say?
In any event my doctor hacked away at Old Charlie Wart who made his appearance once again and took him out at the root this time. Good-bye Charlie and don’t come back! Prior to the dig, the doctor injected a freeze which required an anchor person for me to clench fists with. The prick forced out the name of God and it also pushed poor old Josh who was holding onto me in another direction. Subsequently we all had a good laugh including my driver Devadatta. To our pleasure one cauliflower was harvested for now and more gardening will continue until the field lie fallow. For now “stay off your feet as much as you can” said the doctor who will inspect the foot (which is far from looking like a lotus) in a matter of a few days.
3 KM
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