Your dad hoists his legs legs up and slams his feet down with a thud so loud that the desk trembles, papers shuffle and you stagger to stay on your feet.
Your dad wears expensive, size 12 dress shoes which he has polished regularly. Although, staring breathlessly at the humungous shoes before you, you can tell that the outsoles of your dad's shoes aren't so well maintained. Your eyes wander from the sharp, thick heel, all the way up to the shiny pointed toe which stretches toward the ceiling. The other shoe is rested crookedly behind the first, waiting for you to get to work and 'make yourself useful' as your father said. The scent of premium leather lingers in the area surrounding the serious man's feet.
You can't believe you're being treated this way! Sure, your dad has always focussed more on work than his family, but you never imagined that he thought so little of you as to have you polish his shoes like a lowly slave. You feel humiliated, vulnerable, and afraid. What if you were to say no? He looks pretty mad. You remember one time when you were younger and you were asked to pass your dad's shoes to him while he was getting dressed for work. You slid your fingers in each shoe, picking them up with one hand, and were suprised at just how bulky and heavy they were. Now you imagine those huge, gleaming businessman shoes coming down on you to punish you, to scare you into obedience, with their thick black leather glinting maliciously under the stark office lights..
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