Last night I decided to take my dog for a walk.

I had a pair of cheap but surprisingly comfortable sandals that I'd been wearing, wherever I

go out and grab the mail, walk my dog, anything that doesn't require me to travel on foot

for long.

On the way back home after what had been along but the uneventful walk through the neighborhood,

I was suddenly approached by a man on the sidewalk who, without introduction, commented that

I had very refined set of feet.

Unsure of what exactly that meant and immediately creeped out, more so by the sudden appearance

than the comment itself, I meekly thanked him and I hurried my dog towards my house.

I didn't look back, fearing the man would take my glance as an invitation to follow.

I probably shouldn't have gone straight home but it was late.

I was tired.

I had no footsteps trailing my own and I entered my house with that further contact.

The next day I found a letter on my front porch.

The contents of that letter were unaltered.

I am the man who you met on the street last night.

If you remember, I remarked that you had quite an impeccable pair of feet.

I'm willing to offer you $1,200 per hour if you allow me to study them.

There'll be no physical contact during this session and you're free to leave at any

time before the hour and still receive the full amount, but I assure you that there

will be nothing unusual or strange about the session aside from, of course, the unusual

nature of the request itself.

...