My Feet

"This is your last warning," Herbert Sutcliffe issued forth, "You know the rules on footwear. If I see you in those scruffy trainers again, it's detention for you my lad."

"But ..." Jack started, looking down at his feet.

"No 'buts', you've been told."

Jack wandered off deep in thought. He kicked at an empty drinks can, sending it flying towards a group of boys standing by the door. Jack looked at their feet, and then at the rest of their clothing. Money; that is what their appearance shouted at him.

"Mum, can I have new shoes," Jack asked as soon as he got through the front door.

"Dream on. What you want for tea? Beans or beans?" Ruby asked. Her own footwear was a pair of fluffy slippers, the sole hanging off and holes where her nails had worn through. "You get the form for free school meals?" Jack nodded and searched his pockets for the crumpled paper.

"Look, no trainers," Jack exclaimed to Mr. Sutcliffe the next day. The teacher looked down at Jack's naked and filthy feet.

179 words

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