Death of a Sandal§

My right Sandal is dead. I don't know what killed it, and I'm not in a mood to find the culprit. There's no need for witch hunts, I'm better than that, better than those who killed my right Sandal.

This Sandal walked in the sand of Dubai, in the dust of Kandahar, on the roads of Queensland, Australia, on the beach of Paphos, Cyprus, on the dirt of Sai Gon's roads. It has visited the airports of Newark, Chicago, Ottawa, Vancouver, Brisbane, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Singapore, Montreal, Doha, London and many others.

This Sandal sustained my foot for thousands of kilometers.

Today, this sandal is no more.

The Sandal is dead. Long live the Sandal.