The bustling metropolis of Laurenville buzzed onward as usual.  The feet cleaning details climbed onto the red flip flops according to the schedule, and the goddess lifted them away with her delicate hands.  The rumbling of the closet door behind the blonde female went unnoticed while the teaming city continued as normal.  The thousands of people were all employed in various fields; however the most common career was that of shoe cleaner.  Over the dozen square miles of the civilization, mountainous shoes rose from amongst the skyscrapers and suburbs.  To the north (the front of the closet) an assorted, scattered rainbow of flip flops dotted the landscape.  Monstrous, towering platforms of yellow, sky blue, pink, orange, and (the currently-absent) red beach sandals stood over a hundred feet above the tallest buildings.  The strappy thongs seemed to stretch upwards to the heavens.  In the south, a pair of monumental structures of artwork-like black open-toed strappy heels grew nearly a mile into the air.  A similar pair of white strappy heels towered directly next to the silky black open-toed heels.  The light brown silky surface of the soles provided a common hangout for kids on weekends.  The view of the lights of the city at night was a natural aphrodisiac for young lovers.  To the southeast sat a pair of wooden sandals with a dark brown leather shell.  The shoes consisted of three inch-wide straps crisscrossing each other, and a sunken-in sole from age.  They sat next to a well-worn pair of white and pink Reeboks, one half overturned, exposing the inside.  The smell from these aged footwear dictated that the neighborhoods surrounding them be of the lower class.  Far in the heavens hung colorful garments that the goddess would pull from on a daily basis.  On occasion, the goddess would remove a pair of footwear, exposing an enormous void of raw flooring, but only the bravest souls ventured into these vast plains of nothingness, because upon return, SHE would replace the shoe exactly as it set, as to not disturb the surrounding city.  Her movements in and out of the closet were common enough that it was hardly worth noting.  Her incredible grace and smoothness rarely if ever disturbed the people.

            Once, a few years ago, Lauren was in a rush to get ready for school, and she held her fresh pink panties in her hand while pulling an outfit.  As she flipped through hangers, the underwear fell from her hand and landed in the city, demolishing two square miles.  She did not really care, but the resilient nature of the people of Laurenville brought a speedy recovery, and within months, the sore was no longer distinguishable. 

            So when the closet door initially slid open, the vast majority of the citizens of the microscopic metropolis didn’t bother looking skyward.  Rather they sat in their cars listening to the radio, or working in their offices in the countless grey skyscrapers, or relaxing in their yards on their days off, playing with their pets or cutting the grass.  But it did not take long for those who did look up to realize that the enormous being towering over them was not Lauren, but someone else.  And this realization did cause a growing stir among the population.  Never before had anyone other than THE goddess stand silhouetted in the great closet doorway.  If Lauren was gigantic, this girl was indescribable.  She was head, shoulders, and half-a-chest taller than Lauren.  Her hair was longer and her face rounder.  Her entire body simply exceeded the size of Lauren.  Those far enough south in the city (or in skyscrapers, for that matter) could also see that the feet of this goddess were much larger and more intimidating than those of Lauren.  Time in the city seemed to slow down.  The background noise of the metropolis turned down like the volume on a T.V.  Most people craned their necks upward, but only those the furthest back could see much past her knees, waste, or chest.  Just as the more intelligent citizens began wondering what would happen next, the goddess opened her mouth and spoke.  The monstrous soundwaves rattled windows and shook walls, but the people could not understand her.  She looked down into the closet, but not at the people.  Her eyes glanced around at the various shoes and sandals on the closet floor, and she locked on to the strappy sandals in the rear.

            Leslie looked in to the medium-sized walk-in closet of her younger sister.  The closet was big enough that you could step in to it without hitting the clothes, but one could reach the hanging garments without stepping in (obviously what Lauren always did). 

            “You sure have a lot of flip flops,” remarked Lesley.

            “When you have cute feet, you can get away with it.  Plus they’re comfortable” replied Lauren.
            “Yeah, yeah, enough with the ‘big feet’ cracks.  Oh!  I love those high heels in the back!  Why don’t you ever wear these?”

            “I don’t care for walking in them.  I reserve them for the most special occasions,” Lauren explained.

            With that, Lesley kicked the orange flip flops sideways into the blue pair and stepped into the closet to remove the strappy heels for closer examination.  She noticed the stiff crunch of the carpet but she didn’t think twice about it as she bent over to pick up the shoes.  The settling of her weight caused her brown flip flops to shift, and Lesley set her right hand out to catch her weight with her fingertips.  She lifted the black sandals, then, almost as an afterthought, the white sandals as well.  Lesley pivoted on the ball of her left foot and picked up her right, and stepped forward with it, then out with her left.