A eulogy

I wasn't sure if "eulogy" was the right word. I gave the definition a Google and feel it is. Just over four years ago, someone bought me a pair of shoes, and a few weeks ago they fell apart beyond repair. Didn't have me pegged as a person who would be moved by losing a pair of shoes from her wardrobe? Let me tell you that these weren't any old shoes. They cost £3, came from Primark, and were brown, lace-up wedge heels with a fabric, like, cuff, around the top. I don't know what it's called I never buy shoes. You're not reading the words of a shoe fanatic, you're reading the words of a practicality fanatic. At first they were just a pair of shoes that made me look about three inches taller, it took me until the following summer for me to realise they had super powers. Perhaps not super powers, but you've got to respect that fact that these were a pair of three quid Primark shoes that took a lot of wear and tear. Over the summer I we...