He liked order. Control. Later they said he had a condition. He couldn’t help himself, he didn’t have – how did they phrase it? – a choice. He was compelled. Light and dark. 180 degrees. Polished. Three inches between each pair. Don’t just leave them there, he would yell, rising from his chair, put them in their rightful places. Rightful places. Inside the cupboard. 180 degrees. Polished. Three inches between each pair. Rightful place. Control. Order. It wasn’t just the shoes. He was compelled. He couldn’t help it. Light and dark. The colour of my face as I found my rightful place.
Copyright: Victoria. O