remembering the Pedoscope

A to Z challenge, theme: anatomy, day 6: F
Flash nonfiction, 100 words

Years ago, a doctor X-rayed my feet with my shoes on so he could show me what my bones looked like stuffed into high heels. As if I couldn’t figure that out without radiation.

Later on, I learned that shoe-fitting fluoroscopy was a thing at one time. This grand idea came into vogue in the 1920s, and lingered as late as the 70s in some places. At the shoe store, customers, mostly children it seems, got X-ray glimpses of their feet inside the shoes they were trying on. Like you couldn’t get a good fit without radiation.



A to Z challenge, theme: anatomy, day 2: B
Flash nonfiction, 100 words

My eyes fluttered open. Leaves and branches slowly came into focus.

My ears took in the sound of traffic passing nearby, then, the crunch of footsteps coming close.

A face came into view.

“You okay?” The gruff-looking stranger looked down at me quizzically.

“I don’t know.”

After a moment, I heard his footsteps crunch away and disappear. The sound of the traffic alternately surged and subsided.

Finally, I tried to sit up. That’s when the pain hit. 

Somehow, I got to my unsteady feet. Cradling myself with one arm, I trudged home, the broken bone wailing all the way.