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Boots — Description

The bitter winter cold is far too much for you. It was a cruelty for your sentencing to be shrinking and release at this time of year. Naked on the streets your tiny form shivered, the cold nearly overpowered you until you found a Dunkin Donuts to shelter in, you followed a patron in.
There the disinterested workers didn't make a significant effort to remove you, the most they would do is chase you until you found shelter behind a display or garbage can. The threat was real, but the effort was half.
Sustenance is a problem, your drink is whatever a customer might spill, your food is whatever one might drop by accident. You are truly lucky if the food and drink isn't trampled over by uncaring and oblivious customers. If you aren't lucky then you get to eat whatever filth might have come off of the woman's shoes as she trampled your meal.
It's another typical afternoon, a couple of days after a particularly brutal blizzard. You are happy that you are in a warm shelter. However your diet of junk and brine that was trampled into that junk has effected you. Tired and short tempered, your heart beating almost out of your chest, you know something is wrong, but what that is you don't know.
You watch a cute plump bespectacled blonde enter the shop, she approaches the counter and asks for a coffee and a glazed donut. She picks the coffee up and immediately takes a sip out of it, a sound of pleasure comes from her lips as the hot liquid touches her lips and warms her. She takes a bite out of the donut, and as she does a piece falls to the dirty tile floor. She looks at it with disappointment before continuing drinking the coffee and eating her snack.
You see it on the ground at her boot-clad feet, as she turns around her boot slides over the piece of donut and crushes it into the tile floor as walks away. You look around and see no other customers, and see that the workers are all busy. You run out onto the floor towards the crushed piece of donut. You see the tread pattern of her boot sole embedded in the food.
You try to pull the piece up, but her weight had pressed it too hard into the tile for you to successfully do it. You lower yourself and start to eat from it directly from the floor. You taste the sweetness of the donut, and the saltiness of the grime left from her boot sole.
Eventually you finish with the ridges, now you are forced to try to peal the food off of the floor. It turns into a far more exhausting task than you originally expected it to be. The woman's weight concentrated to such an extent that it forced parts of the donut into imperfections in the tile, effectively adhering the food to the tile.
You struggle to exhaustion with the effort, you don't notice the door opening, or the pretty and fashionable light skinned Indian woman entering the coffee shop. The first that you notice of her is when the tip of her boot's toe appears in your vision, still having snow and water from the outside on it, along with spots of salt from dried brine.
The toe impacts you, knocking you on your back, the rubber sole sliding over you before a hard impact on your legs and hips that instantly shatters the bones, you cry out in pain as you look up in horror and agony at the arch. The black rubber is damp nearer to the part that regularly contacts the ground, further from it is white stains from street salt that dried on the sole. You hear her accented voice say “a small hot cappuccino with milk and sugar” as she casually gives her order as you yourself lay there in agony trapped under her boot heel.
Just past the soiled arch you see the brown fake leather upper of her boot, it too has white spots from the dried brine of the streets and sidewalk, past that you see in her hand is her cell-phone. She brings it to the cash register to pay electronically. Her weight shifts slightly, your bones grind against each other as you cry out again.
Her weight shifts onto you, you see her face appear as she looks down at you, her sloe eyes stare at you for a moment before they turn away from your suffering form. A couple of seconds pass before she lifts the sole off of the ground of the boot that you're under, and grinds the heel on you.
You once again cry out in pain, she sees that one of the workers turns her head and thinks its because she heard your screams. The woman standing on you picks her right foot up slightly as she looks down, pretending to look at her phone, and slides her foot back. You see the arch slide away as the worn, brine covered sole appears, it scrapes over your face, the sole pulling your jaw, opening your mouth before she stops the movement of her foot, she lets it settle upon you as her weight starts to return.
You try to use your left hand to push her weight off of you, but it's hopeless. You use your tongue in a last ditch effort to relieve the pressure on your face, it tastes the briny sole as she slowly adds weight onto you. Your cries are muffled, your terror amplified as you realize that the last thing that you will feel, taste and see is the bottom of her boot.
First your nose, and then the bones of your face start to crack under the weight, you desperately start hammer fisting the side of her boot in a vain attempt to fight her off. The effort barely noticed by her.
“Ma'am, your cappuccino” you hear a voice say before she shifts her weight onto you. “Thank you” you hear the voice above you say before she casually crushes your skull beneath her. She takes a sip of her cappuccino and smirks, “this is good, thank you” she says before stepping off of you.
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Tiny - @Customtiny13