Insole

They’re a bit tight in the calf, so my riding boots don’t slide right on. They haven’t been worn since last week, so I vaguely worry about spiders lurking at the toe. I pull and tug, stamp and pry.  This is getting serious; I take off my hunting coat. Eventually, I convince my arch to fit through the tightspot at the ankle. My foot touches the insole, only to discover it is not alone! I panic, whip my leg back and forth, get terribly claustrophobic. The boot flings off. A pretzel tumbles out, likely placed there by a revenge-seeking sister.