The Art Collector

Keni styles hits up Breanne Benson to list his house. She’s got the looks and the license. First room tour, her eyes snag on all the toe art. Rows of painted soles, pearly heels. She stops, tilts her head. “So… feet?” Keni shrugs, grin lopsided, says he’s a collector. Loves the shape, the arch, the toe spread. Her glossy lips twitch. Dirty little bulb lights up behind her eyes. Instead of writing down square footage she slides one pump off, plants her bare sole on the granite counter, wiggles crimson toes in Keni’s direction. “Show me, collector. How would you price these?”