She had the boots on her feet that she longed for so long. It was made of plastic, smelling a bit like that, but it felt good, looked fashionable, an out of ordinary piece on her feet. She felt that everyone would know she is different when she appeared in school. They might think that it came from foreign relatives from the West. She dreamed about having those relatives and receiving presents from them. Light gray boots, laced up to cover her ankles and a zipper under the lace. So unique, she thought. The boots felt tight a bit on her feet when she tried them on, but there was no larger size and the pain felt bearable then. For a short while then it was, but now as she was sitting in the back seat of their Lada car with a car boot full of food, an LP of Queens, shampoos of flowery smell, it felt hurting. But she felt she is exceptional since she has the boots, from her shopping trip to Yugoslavia, the West. She felt having the boots, the music and the smell made her a different person. While daydreaming in the car the pain shot through. She refocused to her entry to school, how everyone will stare at her boots. They will surely see the difference. The feet hurt a lot, the front part of the boots were too tight for her wide feet. She would never reveal though that it was hurting. The pain came from the bones. The pain was worth it. She wore the booths for another three years but because they were made of strong rigid plastic, they never stretched.